A Study in Bones (Rewritten and Revamped)
by stanleydoodles
Summary: A sequel to the Bone Interpreter. Sherlock Holmes died two years ago, leaving his friends in shattered pieces. But when he returns, very much alive, will his friends forgive him? Or will it take the reemergence of the man who employed Moriarty and an even darker past coming out of the woodwork for them to forgive him? Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks so much to everyone who read my last story! Seriously, it means the world to me! **

**So, like I said before, this is going to differ from the last story and take bits and pieces of season 3… I don't want to follow it exactly, as I had a larger plan before the third season came out… so just roll with it… **

**I hope you enjoy!**

Kylie sighed and ran a forearm over her face, trying to wipe the sweat off her face before it dripped into her eye as she gazed at the skeleton lying her makeshift slab as she stood in the middle of the jungle outside of Buenos Aires.

Her eyes surveyed what was her five hundredth and thirty fourth victim to lay on this table.

She sighed as the obvious signs of torture that were far too repetitive for her liking popped out at her like a sore thumb.

"You can't get hung up on it Doc," Raul, her older assistant said in his typical Argentinian accent, as he brought the victim's other femur into the room, completing the skeleton on the table.

"Hung up?" she asked, bewildered by his question.

"I see the look on your face," he told her with a slight smile, "You hate this."

Kylie didn't answer him for a moment as she looked down at the body in front of her, "I just hate what people do to each other for no reason at all. And we cant even touch the sons of bitches who did this to them."

"Military regime, Doc," Raul told her, "You knew that coming in. We can only identify the victims and lay them to rest with their families. You knew that coming in."

"Yeah, it doesn't mean I still don't think its fair Raul."

"Then why stay here for so long?" Raul asked, "You've been here for two years Doc. No offense, but you more and more miserable each day. Why not go back to your life before?"

"Because there is work to be done here," Kylie told him, "That and I can't go back Raul. I left for a reason." 

"I'm sure the reason is much more arbitrary than you believe it to be. Things aren't always as bad as it seems to be, Doc," Raul told her before he gave her one last smile and walked out of her tent.

Kylie looked at the table and leaned on it, sighing.

Two years… it had been two years since she had left London; running away like a frightened child.

She hated herself for running. She hated the fact that she had abandoned her friends. John had called her multiple times, broken into pieces, begging her to call him. She had never picked up, never called back. The calls had stopped nearly six months after she had left. She had only gotten the nerves to call him a few months ago. He hadn't picked up though, nor responded to her heart felt message and apology. She got the picture… he wanted nothing to do with her. She had nothing left in London… nothing to go back to. She really was starting all over once more.

She plopped down on the examination stool as a sense of hopelessness took over her. She had thought that she was finally going to be happy in London. She had had a great job, a great set of friends, a wonderful land lady, and a man who she had felt herself falling for. That all ended when Thomas had shown up out of the woodwork once more. He had murdered and nearly murdered a handful of women before kidnapping her and using her to drive the man she had fallen for to commit suicide.

She had been raped again.

She had lost all of her friends.

She was alone.

And Sherlock Holmes was dead…

Her life had become a whirlwind of hurt once more and instead of trying to get through it with her friends and family, she had isolated herself in the middle of the Argentinian jungle, surrounded by war-torn victims whose deaths couldn't be brought to justice due to the still running dictator.

She knew she was doing good, but she still felt as if she had an empty hole in her body, spiraling in a vortex, sucking every feeling of happiness and joy into it, the feeling lost forever.

It had been two years… and she still couldn't believe it.

Sherlock Holmes had killed himself… jumped off a building after telling John that he was behind her kidnapping.

It didn't make sense. She had run every scenario through her head a thousand times over. None of it made sense.

Why did he jump?

Why did he tell John he was responsible when she knew for a fact he wasn't?

It was eating at her. None of it made sense. She wanted to have hope that this was all a giant prank… that it was some crazed, elaborate plan…

_Stop it Kylie… he's gone. You know he's gone. _

She shut her eyes and sighed once more.

She had to stop thinking like this… she had to.

She looked over to the corner where her backpack lay. Kylie didn't even realize she was standing until she was kneeling down next to the bag, opening it up, and removing the small brown package she had received nearly a year ago. She removed it from the plastic bag she had been keeping it in, looking it over carefully.

The package had been delivered to her at the hotel she was living in. The label had been typed, and the package wrapped in typical brown paper. There was no postage and no return address… the only clue as to who had sent it was the single name "_Phaedrus"_ in the top right hand corner, where the return address usually lay. The odd part was though, the contents of the package hardly made sense. All that the package contained was a single hard rubber ball, typical of that of being used to play squash.

She held the ball in her hand, staring at it intently for the millionth time.

Why would someone anonymously send it to her? Let alone under the name of an obscure Roman fabulist?

Part of her wanted to believe it was a clue to something… a sign… but the realistic side of her knew it wasn't. Even if it was, she had no idea how it was a sign of hope. It was a squash ball and a guy who wrote fables in the first century…. Nothing made sense anymore.

She shut her eyes and sighed, willing herself to stop this fantasy and come back down to reality as she shoved the box and ball back into the bag.

It was probably a hoax. Some crazed person thinking that they were leading her to case…

_With one that doesn't even make any sense?_

She rolled her eyes at herself as she turned back to the table and willed the past out of her mind.

_One day at a time Kylie… just get through one unbearable day at a time. _

***# ()*) ()_**

Sherlock Holmes read the headlines of the latest paper before flicking it down and staring at his brother as he mindlessly stared at the file in front of him in his home office.

"You have been busy, haven't you?" Mycroft drawled as the barber carefully shaved Sherlock's scraggly face, giving him the first clean shave he had had in months.

"Quite the busy little bee," he continued as Sherlock tossed the paper aside.

"Moriarty's network," Sherlock told him, "It took me two years to dismember it."

Mycroft looked up at him and smiled, "And yet you still haven't caught Thomas Moore."

Sherlock motioned for the barber to stop, as he sat up, glaring at his brother.

Mycroft just smiled at him even more, "That's why you did it, didn't you? To protect young Miss Gibbs?"

"Moriarty was running a large underground terror group. Being Serbia was the last piece of the puzzle…"

"A group that Mr. Thomas Moore now runs," Mycroft told him.

Sherlock gave his brother a pained smile, "May I remind you that you, nor the British government had found Moore either. You were too busy enjoying watching me be beaten to a pulp to even begin looking…"

"I got you out."

"No, I got me out. Why didn't you intervene sooner?"

"I couldn't risk giving myself away now, could I?"

"You were enjoying it. Admit it."

"I never enjoy, field work," Mycroft said as if the word 'field' were disgusting, "The noise.. the people…"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and leaned back once more, "I didn't know you spoke Serbian."

"It wasn't difficult to learn. Took me an afternoon."

"mm.. you're slipping."

"Middle age," Mycroft told his brother with a smile, "Comes to us all."

The door opened and Anthea, Mycroft's PA held up a suit for him with a smile.

**&^#*( ()* )**

Sherlock adjusted the suit as he looked in the mirror, taking in his refreshed appearance; one that he had not seen in two years, since adventuring out into the Russian wilderness.

"I think I'll surprise John," he commented as he made small adjustments to his suit, "he'll be delighted!"

"You think so?" Mycroft said as he watched his brother, folding his arms.

"I think I'll go back to Baker Street, and who knows, jump out of a cake!" He said jokingly… well, half jokingly…

"Bake Street?" Mycroft asked, "He hasn't lived there in two years."

Sherlock looked at his brother with slight shock.

"Neither him, nor Miss Gibbs have. Why would they be? Its been two years. They've both got on with their lives."

"I sent Kylie a clue. She must have figured it out, told John."

"A squash ball?" Mycroft laughed, "You know that that is only obvious to us, dear brother, not a typical goldfish like the woman you were infatuated with?"

"You know that Kyleigha is much brighter than you give her credit for, dear brother," Sherlock told him.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his brother, "Even so, her and John have not spoken in years. Miss Gibbs still remains in the Argentinean rainforest. While John has taken to being a humble general practitioner."

"Where's he going to be tonight?" Sherlock asked.

"How should I know?"

"You always know." 

"He has a dinner reservation at the Marron Of Bon Row. Nice little spot. Have a couple bottles of the 2000…"

Sherlock wasn't listening anymore. He knew he had to see his friend.. the same friend who still supposedly believed him to be dead… all because a woman couldn't figure out the simple, blatant clue he had given her to let her and John know that he was still alive…

"I think I'll just drop by," Sherlock muttered as he smirked to himself.

Even if he didn't know… this was still going to be fun…

**(#() ()( **

John Watson walked up nervously to the door of a flat that he had been to many _many_ times.

_Come on John, pull yourself together. You have been dating Karen for nearly eight months now… asking her to move in is the next logical step. Its not like you are asking the woman to marry you…._

John adjusted his tie and suit jacket, smoothing his mustache down. He had to admit, he'd had it for months now, but he still wasn't quite used to it.

He took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock, just as he was about to rap on the door, it opened.

"OH! Hi!" Karen's best friend Janine said in her Irish drawl as she looked at him in surprise, "Sorry, John. Just helping Karen get ready, you know."

John didn't know her very well, but knew her well enough that she was his girlfriend's best friend and that she was a PA for some corporate big wig.

"Best be off!" Janine told him, "Lovely to see you as always John! Oh, and I have to say, Karen looks drop dead gorgeous. Good luck tonight… you know…"

John frowned at Janine as she looked at him, hinting that she knew something.

"John!" Karen's voice said from behind him.

John turned to his lovely blond girlfriend in a lovely pink cocktail dress that made his stomach flip.

_She certainly did look stunning…_

"John, I wasn't quite expecting you on time!" Karen said as she put in her last earring, completing the outfit as she stared at her boyfriend at the door.

"You look, um… wow," John stuttered.

_Keep it together Watson…_

"Bye Janine!" Karen said over John's shoulder.

"Oh! Yeah, right!" Janine said as she walked away, motioning for Karen to call her behind John's back before she walked to her car, getting in.

"Sorry about that," Karen said as she kissed her boyfriend, "You ready for dinner?"

_Ready as I'll ever be…_

***&#( )* )(**

John sat at the table nervously, twitching as Karen stared at him with a smile, sipping her water as they waited for the waiter to come and take their orders.

"You've never taken me out here before," Karen told him, smiling with excitement, "Its quite a nice place."

"Yeah, well. It's a special night," John said looking down as Karen practically bubbled with excitement.

_Now or never Watson…_

"I um.. wanted to ask you something," John began nervously, trailing off…

"What'd you want to ask me?" Karen asked, practically jumping up and down.

"Look, I know we have been dating for eight months now. And most of that, I haven't been in the best of spots. And you have been there for me, and I can never repay you for that. But I love you. And I wanted to know if you, Karen, will move…" 

"Sir, I think you two will quite enjoy this specific wine," A waiter with a horrible French accent interrupted, shoving a bottle in front of John's face, "It is our special of the day, unless the two of you would prefer something else off the menu…"

"We're kind of in the middle of something," John said, looking at Karen, who was sort of frowning, "Will you come back in a minute?"

"Move?" Karen asked.

"Yes, move in with me?" John told her.

"It is exceptional though!" the waiter continued, "The color, the hint of fruit, and blackberry…"

"No, sorry, not now," John inputted once more.

"Move? You aren't proposing?" Karen asked.

"Proposing?" John asked nearly choking, "You thought I was going to propose?"

"Yes, you get me all dressed up…."

"But this is from a private collection and I promise you that when you taste it…" The waiter continued as Karen was nearly crying across the other end of the table.

"… and ask me out to dinner at a very nice place. A girl can only assume…"

"That you will feel that you are meeting a friend from the past…"

"Look," John said snapping as he looked up at the waiter for the first time as he pulled his glasses off his face, "I am trying to deal with my girlfriend, can you please come…."

John trailed off as he couldn't believe the sight before him. He had to be hallucinating… he had to be.

"Interesting thing a tuxedo. Puts a distinction to friends and an anonymity to waiters," the man said.

John gaped as Karen fell silent, seeing John's reaction.

Sherlock Holmes… the man who had jumped off a building, committing suicide two years ago.. the same man who had left John in a million shattered pieces grieving for his friend was standing in front of him, very much alive.

_Son of a bitch…. _

**Not quite the third season…**

**Review? Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**GAH! You guys are seriously amazing! Like really! Thanks so much for all the amazing feedback! I cant tell you how much it means to me!**

**A huge thanks to LatinClover, KiyUzumaki, Kara, My guest reviewer, OptimisticLivvy, SirOlives, notsmaug, Israali Kotetsu, Slyork1991, Xedotic, Silver-Angelic-Lilly, Carlyspo, my other guest reviewers, MiKaBlackPoynter, , bored411, Gwilwiliith, nanamiYatsumaki, Dalonega Noquisi, brooktroutlittleriver, RoseyPoseyPie, and Bowie fan for their amazing reviews!**

**Just wanted to say, once more… This is LOOSELY taking things from the third season and blending them into my plot line. MARY WILL BE IN THIS! Just… not now… Karen is just another "serious" girlfriend that John is having at the current moment. I'm just taking things and spinning them right now, if that makes sense. **

**Anyhow, I apologize for the grammatical shittiness of the last chapter and this one. Its hard taking lines from the show and Im sick right now, and my brain isn't functioning. But I appreciate you guys baring with me! **

**Anyhow, heres the next one! Enjoy!**

John sat in his flat, Karen asleep next to him on the couch as he stared off into space. It had been nearly 24 hours since Sherlock had re-emerged back into his life and even after little sleep and a lot of thought, he still didn't know how he felt.

Confused.

Angry.

Relieved.

Happy.

Disappointed.

Torn.

… all of the above….

It was a whole lot of all of them. He had to admit, punching Sherlock those couple of times had helped a bit, but it still didn't seem to touch the amount of pain he had suffered through over the course of the last two years because of that.

Since that fateful day, John had felt as if he was desperately trying to escape a black hole of despair; seeing his therapist almost on a daily basis just to even make it through a day. After Kylie had left suddenly it had been worse. Losing a friend and feeling all alone once more. Once she had left, he and Lestrade had fallen out of touch, while he had separated himself from Mrs. Hudson and Baker Street.

He had been furious at Kylie for leaving, but he truly began to understand why she had run. It had been far easier once he had distanced himself from everything that reminded him of his friend… unhealthy… but easier.

That whole world, that delusion, that he had created for himself had been ruined the moment Sherlock Holmes had walked back into his life, snarky as always. It blew his mind that he could not understand why he did not care about how he pulled off this stunt, but only care about _why_ he had lied.

He understood that Moriarty's regime needed to be torn down as well as finding who Moriarty had been "working for", but why he had to hide the fact that he was alive and why he hadn't sent at least one BLOODY clue was beyond him.

Sherlock had claimed that he had sent a clue to Kylie to tell him as well, but whether Kylie had figured it out and not told him, or never figured it out to begin with… wasn't just sending a simple, blatant text much more logical?

Karen shifted in her sleep, causing John to look at his girlfriend. As confusing as she was, and as mad at him she had been for leading her to think that he was proposing, she had stood by his side and been there to listen.

She had even punched Sherlock once…

Since that moment when his friend had emerged from the dead in the restaurant, she had gone from utterly pissed at him, to completely supportive. Despite the fact that he doubted they would last, she was really a nice girl. He knew he was trying to convince himself that she was good for him. She was really all that he had since both Sherlock had "died" and Kylie had walked out of his life, only to leave him to shove away anyone else that mattered to him.

…

_Mycroft, Molly, and the homeless network…._

They all had known… and yet he hadn't; the man's supposed best friend hadn't been trusted with the information.

And then he had the _gall_ to ask for his damn help. The goddamn _gall_…

John sighed and put his head in his hands.

He couldn't take this. He had far too many emotions surging through him. He wanted to punch a wall, throttle his friend, yell, scream… he didn't know what anymore.

He needed to talk to someone… someone who understood….

His eyes flicked to his laptop.

Did he really want to open this can of worms though?

He had had a quiet life; one that had been going along nicely, and then Sherlock had come back into it and opened Pandora's box once more.

***&# *(()# (**

Kylie sat on her bed in the dingy hotel room she had been living in for the last two years, staring at her computer blankly. She glanced at the brown paper box with the squash ball lying neatly on top of the plastic bag she kept it in next to her laptop.

This had been her nightly ritual since she had received the package. She had been sitting here for the last two hours, trying to get up the nerve to press the Skype call button next to the name "John Watson" on her laptop, despite the fact that the online notification had gone off hours ago.

It was nearly three in the morning in London, she knew he wouldn't pick up, but something inside of her, most likely her guilt, was eating at her to call her friend.

_The package doesn't mean anything Kylie… its not a sign. You are just hopeful… hopeful and delusional. _

The tune of her Skype app ringing filled the air of the small hotel room, causing Kylie to snap out of her thoughts and look at the computer, frowning.

She was getting a call from a blocked address.

How was that possible though? She could have sworn it was impossible to make blocked calls on Skype….

She hesitantly clicked accept, curiosity getting the better of her.

She frowned as her heart sunk. No one was on the screen, but she recognized the room the computer on the other end was in.

…221B Baker Street, London England….

Long lean legs walked into the picture to the chair that was opposite of the computer, before the person sat down and an all too familiar face came onto the screen.

Kylie felt her breath catch in her throat as her heart stopped beating in her chest.

_No…._

She had to be hallucinating.

She was losing it. This wasn't happening.

Sherlock Holmes was staring at her on the other side of the screen….

"Hello Kylie," he told her with a small smile as he looked at her with a strange sadness in his eyes.

Kylie just stared at him, gaping in shock. Her heart wasn't beating. Her blood was frozen in her veins. She wasn't breathing.

Time had stopped moving as her mind went completely blank.

…_this wasn't happening… this wasn't real…._

"Do you not sleep in Argentina?" he asked as he leaned closer to the screen, taking in her haunted and gaunt appearance, "I thought it was supposed to be relaxing there."

He smiled at her as if he were half joking, finding his own jab at her humorous.

Kylie just kept staring.

She couldn't move. She was in shock.

Sherlock shifted awkwardly on the other side of the computer, clearing his throat at her silence.

"I take it from your shocked expression and the fact that John was just as surprised, that you didn't get my package."

_Package….?_

"You…" Kylie finally spat out, "You're alive?"

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion.

"Yes, of course I am. What did you think this is? A message from the beyond?"

"No, you are dead. John swore you were dead…"

Sherlock dropped his head and sighed "No! Things aren't as they seem to be. That's why I sent you the package."

'_Things aren't always as they seem….'_

"Oh my God," Kylie muttered as she looked down at the name on the brown paper package that she had Googled ten trillion times, putting it all together.

_Phaedrus… the man who was well known for the quote: __"Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden." _

_Son of a bitch…_

"Oh!" Sherlock said as he saw her lift up the box, staring at it in blatant shock, "So you did get it."

Kylie looked up at the screen once more, this time with sight anger in her eyes, only to see Sherlock frown.

"So you got the package and still didn't figure it out?"

"You," Kylie scoffed, still not believing that any of this was real, "You sent me this package, with only the name Phaedrus and a rubber squash ball, and expected me to figure out that you were still alive. Even though John saw you jump, and took your pulse?"

Silence.

"Yeah, it was a rather obvious and easy puzzle that was quite geniusly crafted…."

Kylie didn't want or need to hear anything else that was coming out of the detective's mouth as he began to talk… most likely beginning to explain how he had faked his death…. But she didn't care.

She just reached up and angrily closed her laptop, promptly hanging up on the call and leaving the hotel in silence.

She stared at the bed in shock.

_Did that really just happen?_

_Sherlock Holmes was alive…._

Before she could really stop to think about what she was doing, she found herself scrambling for her cell phone, dialing a number that she had hesitated calling everyday for the last two years.

It only had to ring once before John Watson's voice filled the other end of the line.

"Kylie?"

Kylie froze. She hadn't heard her friend's voice in two years. His tone was no longer like him. His voice was quiet and broken. It was as if he was afraid that his soul might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

"Kylie, I was about to call you," he told her, "I uh… know it's been a while. And I haven't really responded to your phone calls, but uh…"

"Sherlock is alive John," Kylie blurted out.

Silence.

"You knew too?" John asked as anger started to fill his voice.

"I mean, I'm not sure. I may be hallucinating… wait," Kylie said trailing off, "Wait, you knew? I just found out! The bastard just called me casually on Skype!"

"Wait, so you had no idea?" John asked, trying to get everything straight, "He told me he left you clues."

"By clues he meant an anonymous package with a squash ball inside and an obscure ancient Greek fabulist's name as the only form of return address? Then yeah, he left me clues, but I sure as hell didn't figure it out, nor find out he was alive till he called me two minutes ago."

Kylie heard John sigh angrily on the other end of the line.

"How did you know?" Kylie asked.

"He showed up at my dinner reservation I had with my girlfriend, posing a waiter to surprise me," John said bitterly.

As mad as she was at the entire situation, Kylie couldn't help but snort with laughter at the thought of Sherlock dressing up as a waiter and popping out, yelling 'surprise' struck her as funny.

"What?" John asked.

"What'd he do?" Kylie asked, giggling, "Pop out of a cake?"

John was silent for a moment before he began laughing as well.

"Thank God he didn't," John commented, "People would definitely talk if he did."

Kylie began laughing even harder, relishing the feeling of comfort and joy washing over her for the first time in two years, just by talking to her friend on the phone.

"You know, I told Mrs. Hudson that I was asking my girlfriend to move in with me, and she kept making comment about how I had changed teams."

Kylie started full out laughing at her friend as he lightly chuckled along.

"Well, she did live below you two," Kylie joked, "and you hear everything in that flat."

"Dammit Kylie," John laughed.

"So, you have a girlfriend then?" she asked.

"Yeah," John laughed, "For once…"

"That's good. I'm happy for you John."

"Thanks."

"You see Mrs. Hudson often?"

"Uh, no. I hadn't seen her in about two years," he replied awkwardly.

"Oh…"

"I guess I took a note out of your book," John shot at her.

Kylie shut her eyes and dropped her head.

"John… I…" 

"No, save it Kylie," he told her, "I was suffering. We all were suffering. You weren't the only one. And you selfishly ran, shoved us all away when we needed each other the most. And you just ran…"

"I know," Kylie told him, "I tried calling. You didn't answer. I tried to fix it, John…"

"When it was too late…"

"BUT AT LEAST I TRIED!" Kylie yelled back, "You don't that leaving you all ate at me? That I was really okay with what I did? That I wasn't in my own level of hell half-way across the world? That I didn't want my friends and family back?"

Kylie took a breath before continuing her rant, "I was raped. My life had fallen to pieces again. The man I had been falling in love with when I never thought it would ever be possible to love again had killed himself, taking the blame for my kidnapping and rape when he had nothing to do with it. The only logical thing I could do was run. I had already brought Thomas and so much pain into your guys' lives. The best thing I could do for you was leave…. No matter how much it hurt you at the time, it was better than dragging the rest of you into my vortex of pain and hurt."

Silence.

"That's why I tried to call; to explain it. But you didn't respond. You had made your point clear."

Silence.

"I am not the only guilty party here, John," she told him, "I did it to try to protect you. That's all I am saying. You are one of the greatest friends I have ever had, and like a brother to me. I couldn't lead you into more hurt."

She heard John let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.

"Trust Sherlock bloody Holmes coming back from the dead to be the only thing to get us to apologize," he commented on the other end of the line.

Kylie laughed briefly, "Is that forgiveness?"

"No," John told her, "Its accepting your apology, and me giving you my own."

Kylie sobbed in relief.

"I'm sorry, Ky."

"Apology accepted," she told him as she wiped tears off her face.

"So what are we going to do?" John asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked, "Sherlock's alive. What can we do? Ignore him?"

"No, I mean do we help him?"

"Help him?"

"Wait, he didn't ask you?"

"Ask me what?"

"He needs help with a case. That's the only reason he came back. Some bomb or something about to blow up London…" 

"Oh, he didn't get that far. I got a little fed up him." 

"You hung up on him?" John smirked, it showing in his tone.

"He was being cocky."

John laughed, "Yeah, well. That's better than beating him up in a restaurant like I did." 

Kylie busted up laughing once more.

"I think I would have paid to see that."

"I'm just thankful I wasn't arrested. Being locked in a cell with him wouldn't have been that great."

"True."

Silence overcame the pair.

"How do we forgive him? For all the pain he caused us?"

"I don't know," Kylie sighed, shaking her head, "He's our friend though. He'll have to earn it back, but we both care enough about him to let him."

John sighed, "So I just have to find someway to make him miserable and still be mad at him… you sure you aren't coming back to London any time soon?"

"I got a couple more months here," Kylie told him, "then, I'll be back."

Kylie paused and thought for a moment.

"Does your girlfriend have a really annoying clingy and single friend?" Kylie asked as a thought struck her.

***(&# (*# ()**

John walked up the stairs into 221B, only to open the door and find Sherlock standing on the couch, between and older couple.

"John?"

"Oh sorry, you're busy," he told him, still not quite sure how Kylie had talked him into this being a good idea.

"Oh! No, they were just leaving!" Sherlock said as he bent down to help the woman up off the couch.

"Oh, were we?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said in an odd tone as he practically shoved the couple out the door.

"No, if you've got a case.." John began.

"I have a case, just not with them," Sherlock commented as the woman began saying something that John didn't quite understand while her husband looked a bit lost.

"We're here till Saturday, dear," The woman said as they both walked towards the door.

"Great. Wonderful. Just get out," Sherlock said as he herded them out the door, while the woman kept arguing with him.

Successfully getting them out of the flat, Sherlock went to slam the door, only to have the woman shove her foot in it, blocking it effectively.

John tried not to listen as he heard the woman whispering something to Sherlock in a quiet, yet motherly tone.

He had no idea who this couple was, but apparently they thought begging Sherlock would get him to take his case.

John kept seeing Sherlock glance back at him out of the corner of his eye before he muttered something to the couple in return before slamming the door shut and looking back at him.

He sighed for a moment, before straightening, "Sorry about that."

"No, its fine," John responded, "Clients?"

"Just my parents," Sherlock said awkwardly.

"Your parents?" John gaped as he looked out the window.

"Well, not my biological parents, but they essentially raised me. They're in town for a few days."

"You were adopted?"

"OF course not," Sherlock said with a wave of his hand, dismissing the topic, "Mycroft got them tickets to a matinee of Les Miserable and tried to talk me into escorting them."

"Those were your parents?"

"The people I consider my parents, yes."

John paused and looked out the window.

"Well…"

Sherlock frowned. Why did this matter? 

"That was not what I…" John said before he trailed off.

"What?"

"I mean… they're just so… ordinary." 

Sherlock nearly rolled his eyes.

"It's a cross I have to bare," he told him, causing John to laugh slightly as he looked around the flat.

He turned and looked at his friend once more, "Did they know too?"

Sherlock looked away in shame.

"mm?" John continued, "That you spent the last two years playing hide and seek?"

"Maybe…"

"Oh! So that's why they weren't at the funeral!" John said, feeling anger bubble up in him once more.

"Sorry! Sorry again!" Sherlock told him.

Silence.

"Sorry," Sherlock said more sincerely.

John just looked at him.

"I talked to Kylie," John told him after a moment, "She didn't know you were alive until you called her. At least I wasn't left out of that loop," he told him sarcastically.

"You two don't talk?" Sherlock asked in bewilderment.

John laughed and flopped down in his regular chair.

"No," John told him with a half smile, "Kylie got kidnapped, beaten to a pulp and raped again, you supposedly killed yourself, and none of us were in a great spot. She ran to Argentina when Lestrade and I left her alone to go to your funeral."

Sherlock was just staring at John in shock.

"She was raped?"

John looked up at him, taken aback by his change in tone, "You didn't know?"

Sherlock shook his head and sat in the armchair across from him, "Mycroft told me she had been cleared and was fine."

John laughed, causing Sherlock to look up at him, "Now you know what it feels like to be lied to. Join the club."

Sherlock just stared.

John leaned forward in his seat and looked at him, "You lied to Kylie and I, in order to take down Moriarty's regime…"

"To protect you two," Sherlock added.

John closed his eyes, trying to contain his anger before he continued.

"You lied to Kylie and I, Kylie lied to me and ran to escape her problems, I avoided Kylie, and Mycroft lied to you… it's a circle of lies, one that needs to end."

"Is this…" Sherlock began, trailing off as he was trying to choose his words carefully, "Is this you forgiving me?"

"No," John told him, "This is me, giving you the chance to end the lies and earn forgiveness." 

"What do I have to do?" Sherlock asked.

"You have to go on a double date with Karen and I," John told him, "And act civil."

"Fine," Sherlock said immediately, as he got up, staring at the photos he had pasted on the wall above the couch, "We have an underground terrorist group to stop. Dinner and sitting and talking is a stretch, but we can work with it. When should I expect Kylie?"

"Kylie?"

Sherlock frowned at him and turned, looking at him questioningly.

"Yes, Kylie. I assume she'll be my date."

John laughed at him a bit, "Kylie is a bit more than pissed at you and staying in Argentina. No, you are going with Karen's best friend, Janine."

Sherlock's face fell.

"You get through this, acting like a complete gentleman. No talk of cases. Just a nice, sit down dinner where you don't read or insult anyone, and don't do anything but show my girlfriend and her best friend who has been begging me to set her up with someone a nice time; and then I will help you with this terrorist plot."

Sherlock stared at him.

"Cant we just go out with Kylie?"

"No," John told him with a satisfied smirk, "Because I want my girlfriend off my arse about setting her friend up, and you are the one who needs to make things up with the woman you desperately want to be your girlfriend, even though you lied to her and faked your death."

John paused and looked at the wall for a moment, "That, and I know you'll hate it with every ounce of your being."

"This a consolation for the pain that I've caused you?" Sherlock inquired.

"A start, yes."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, "Fair enough."

"Good because I've already told them," John said as he stood up and began looking at the photos as well.

Sherlock looked at him for a moment before turning back to the photos.

"What time is dinner?" he asked.

"Eight," John responded.

"So we have six hours to work on this?"

"About, yes. But you will have to shower."

"Shower? I always shower."

"It's a date."

"Its not a date."

"Not a date you want to be on. You even showered for Kylie."

Sherlock glowered at him.

John just smiled.

"You want to fill me in then? Or am I just going to have to guess what this terrorist plot is about?"

**Little changes…**

**Anyhow, Thoughts?**

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**You guys are the greatest, seriously, thanks so much! I apologize that it took me so damn long to update… I am a graduate student and starting a bunch of research and such, so I apologize for the sporadic updates and such. Hopefully I will get to updating more often. **

**Anyhow, a HUGE thanks to LoveIsAFairyTale, GreyRoseOfHope, NanamiYatsumaki, Gwilwillith, Guest, Alyssamichelle719, Israali Kotetsu, SirOlves, Dalonega Noquisi, Bowie an, pineapple lover, Kara, MiKaBlackPoynter, xxMadameMystertyxxx, LatinClover, and bored411 for their reviews! **

**I apologize for the rehashing of parts of episodes, its not quite the same…. Subtle stuff is going on. **

**Anyhow, enjoy!**

"Sherlock…."

Silence…

"Sherlock, you have to get ready," John said as he crossed his arms and stared at his friend.

"The train," Sherlock muttered for the four millionth time, "The man on the train. I know him, I know I know him."

"Yes, of course," John sighed as they went around in a circle once more, "But right now, you have to get ready for the date you promised to go on."

"I thought you were going to run 'home' and change," Sherlock muttered as he still stared at the photos.

John just looked at him incredulously, "I did that an hour ago."

Sherlock frowned and looked up at a now changed and shaven John Watson.

"Oh, you shaved it off," Sherlock said as he turned and looked back at the photos he had dubbed his "rats" earlier on.

"Yeah, it wasn't working for me," John responded.

"Good, I like my doctors clean shaven," Sherlock told him.

A smirk started to cover John's face, "Just don't say that in front of your date, will you? Otherwise she may think that I am really your date."

A corner of Sherlock's mouth began to pull up into a smile.

"You get any further?" John asked, "Because you obviously aren't going to change."

"The pattern is too nebulous," Sherlock muttered as he got up and wandered over to the photos, stopping and thinking for a moment before throwing his hands outward.

"Why would an agent give his life to tell us something completely insignificant?"

"Gave his life?"

"According to Mycroft."

"Oh, well then that makes it true…." 

Sherlock shot John a look.

"He lied to you about Kylie's rape so you could do his bidding," John pointed out.

"I didn't do his bidding!" Sherlock scoffed at him.

"Yeah," John said sarcastically, "that's why you traveled the world as a dead man and ended up in a Serbian military prison… completely of your own will."

Sherlock gave him a look.

"I did it to…"

"Stop Moriaty's regime and protect Kylie and I… yeah, I know," John said as he waved his hand, "Get on with what you found."

He gave him one last strange look before turning back to the photos, "There is an underground terrorist network with an impending attack on Britain."

John raised an eyebrow at him in silence… they had been doing this for the last five hours… he knew this.

"These are my rats. Lowlives… all of them. Just like with rats, if one of them starts acting strangely, you know something is up."

"Hence your obsession with the man on the train," John commented.

"Yes, this man; the sixth rat," Sherlock said pointing to a man in particular on his board of photos.

"Wait, I know him," John commented, "Lord Cavill, Ministry of overseas development."

"Oh…" Sherlock said as he stared at the wall for a moment before launching himself at his computer, typing something into the search engine, "That all makes sense now…"

"What?" John asked curiously.

"Well, he's obviously been working for the North Koreans since 1996," Sherlock said getting up again.

"Wait," John said frowning, "You don't know who he is, but you know he's been working for the North Koreans?"

Sherlock looked at him, "Of course, I just didn't recognize his face. Didn't mean that I didn't deduce anything about him."

John fought not to roll his eyes.

"He's the big rat John, rat number one. And he's just done something very suspicious indeed."

"And what's that?" John asked.

Sherlock motioned to the laptop, causing John to get up and look at the security footage of the train, frowning as he saw Lord Cavill get on, but never off.

"This the same train?"

"Of course it's the same train," Sherlock told him as he walked over and looked at the screen.

"Well, he couldn't have gotten off, the doors wont open," John commented, "Where's the driver?"

"On holiday, came into some money," Sherlock told him.

"Well, he was obviously bought off," John commented, causing Sherlock to smile.

_This was why he needed John back. Caught onto things quicker than Molly had…_

"There's something else though John," Sherlock muttered as he refocused his attention back on the wall, "Something I am missing, something that is staring me in the face…"

His phone beeped as he heard John muttering something about Al-Qaida and the IRA.

"Our rats just come out of his cave," he muttered.

He stopped moving for a moment as he vaguely heard John talking in the background. His mind was racing…

…Oh…. OH!

"Yes, yes, yes, YES!"

"What?" John asked, rather startled by the outburst.

"I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!"

"What?'

"Oh, that good. That could be brilliant!"

"What are you on about?"

"Not an underground network, John. Its an underground network!" Sherlock yelled.

John sighed, "Right."

Footsteps began thumping up the stairs as Sherlock began manically pacing once more.

"Sometimes things are just so blatantly obvious that you can't even seen them right when they are staring you in the face," Sherlock told him as he bent over the computer and pressed play, playing the video of the train once more.

"Yoo-hoo!" A female voice said, as there was a knock on the door.

"Seven carriages leave Westminster," Sherlock said, not caring that there were visitors or giving John time to look up, "And only six return to St. James's Park."

"So then what happened to it?" John asked, completely deterred by the case.

"The driver must have diverted the train, detached the last car…."

"And left it where?" John asked, "You said there was nothing between these two stations."

"Uh, hello?" Karen said loudly, though neither of the men paid any attention.

"It's the only rational conclusion," Sherlock continued, "One of the carriages disappeared so therefore it must still be down there."

"But why? Why, detach it in the first place?"

"It vanishes between St. James's Park and Westminster…"

"Uh… John?" Karen said, gaping at her boyfriend, as he was too busy looking at the screen of the computer to notice her or Janine standing in the doorway of the flat.

"Hmm?" John inquired hearing his name as Sherlock ranted, finally looking up.

"Oh! Karen, Janine, hi!" John said as he got up to greet his girlfriend and her friend.

"So this is how you were like before I met you," Karen told him, still a bit upset with him for taking a bit to notice them.

"The date?" Sherlock asked as he turned around to see John and the women.

"Yes, we have a date," John told him, "This is…"

"Today's date. What is today's date?"

"November the fifth," Janine said as she walked forward and held out her hand, "I'm Janine by the way. You must be Sherlock…"

She frowned, as he wasn't even looking at her, he was too busy staring wide-eyed at John, and John returning the look.

"Oh my God," John muttered.

"Lord Cavill, he's Lord of the Realm, has full access to the House. The same House that is voting on an anti-terrorism bill right at this very moment. But he wont be there. Not tonight; not the fifth of November."

"Remember, remember…" John muttered.

"I'm sorry, are we going to dinner?" Karen asked, trying to get the men's attention back.

"No," Sherlock said picking up his coat and running out of the flat, leaving a gaping Karen behind.

She just looked at Janine, who was staring after the dark haired detective slightly hurt.

She looked at John, raisin an eyebrow at him, as if to ask how he was going to fix this.

Now, John knew he had two choices; make his girlfriend happy and drag Sherlock back up here and apologize profusely and have a torturous dinner with two gorgeous women. Or, he could run after Sherlock and help him stop a large bomb that was meant to blow up the House of Lords, promptly pissing his girlfriend off, yet again and most likely getting his arse dumped once more.

"Uh, rain check?" John said he picked up his jacket as well and practically ran out of the room before Karen could respond.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, he had missed this….

***&#( *#() **

"Where in the hell are we going?" John asked as he caught up to Sherlock who was practically running out of the cab they had caught outside of Baker Street.

"There were platforms and stations built below London in the early ninetieth century…"

"Which ones, I've never seen them on the map."

"That's because they were closed before they were opened," Sherlock told him, "Bill's didn't pass. They built the platforms and the stations and everything."

"And there's one of these directly below the Palace of Westminster? One with a bomb below it?"

"Yes," Sherlock said as they strolled into the London Underground.

"Right," John said as he pulled out his mobile.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling the police."

"NO!"

"Sherlock this isn't a game, we need to evacuate the station and the Parliament…"

"Get in the way; they always do. This is cleaner, more efficient."

John shut his eyes as he watched Sherlock break into a door he knew they most likely weren't allowed through.

"Illegal?"

"A bit," Sherlock said as he held the door open for his companion.

John sighed and repocketed his mobile as he pulled a torch out of his pocket, shining it in the dark tunnel that they were beginning to walk through.

He pulled out his phone once more when Sherlock wasn't looking, cursing as he saw he didn't have any service.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked as they descended the stairs to the platform.

"Nothing," John said hurriedly as he repocketed it once more.

They descended the stairs after walking for a bit, to the platform, not seeing the train any where in sight.

"Where is it?"

"I don't understand," Sherlock muttered.

"That's a first," John quipped.

"There's no where else it could be," Sherlock said as he shut his eyes and wracked his mind, imagining the bomb going off.

… What would set off the most damage?

"OH!" Sherlock exclaimed before sprinting off in a direction.

"WHAT!" John yelled as he ran after him.

Sherlock jumped off the platform onto the tracks, John stopping above him.

"Wait, Sherlock!"

"What?" he said as he turned and looked at him.

"Isn't that live?"

"Yes, just avoid the touching the rails. Perfectly safe," he said as he continued on his way.

John looked at the ceiling and sighed once more before jumping down and following him.

They walked for a bit before the sight of the vanishing carriage caught their eye.

"Well look at that," John muttered.

"John," Sherlock said motioning upwards.

John looked up and saw ignition charges covering the upward terminal.

"Great," John commented as they proceeded forward.

They searched the outside of the cabin before finally entering it, to find it completely normal and empty.

"Its empty," John commented, "There's nothing here."

"Isn't there?" Sherlock said quietly as his eyes caught wires.

John looked over to see Sherlock lifting up a seat cushion, before he looked back at him darkly.

"This is the bomb."

John's heart nearly stopped beating in his chest.

"What?"

Sherlock lifted up the seat cushions one by one, "This carriage isn't carrying explosives, it is the bomb."

John's heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he looked around at the explosives imbedded in all the seats before he noticed Sherlock removing the large centerpiece of flooring, covering what looked to be an even larger bomb and the device.

_This… right here… this was the stupidest thing he had ever done. _

He took a few breaths to try to calm himself.

_Dammit… why didn't he just go to dinner like a normal human being?_

"We need bomb disposal," John told his friend as he tried to keep calm.

"There may not be time for that now."

"So, what do we do?"

Then, Sherlock Holmes said the worst possible thing…

"I… have no idea."

John looked up at him as if he were joking.

"Think of something."

"Why do you think I know what to do?"

"Because you are Sherlock Holmes, you are as clever as it gets."

"And that means I know how to diffuse a giant bomb? What about you, you were in the army?"

"I was a doctor!"

"And a bloody solider, as you keep reminding everyone."

"Cant we… cant we rip the timer off or something?" John asked as he noticed the clock on the device.

"No, that might set it off!"

"You see, you know things!"

Sherlock sighed and turned around.

They stayed in silence for a moment before the lights suddenly turned on and the carriage began to move, the timer ticking down from two and a half minutes.

"Oh… MY GOD! Why didn't you call the police? WHY DO YOU NEVER CALL THE POLICE?!"

"Its no use now."

"So, you can't switch the bomb off? You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police?" John yelled angrily before pacing once more.

For once, John turned to see Sherlock completely at a loss. He was standing there, staring at his friend blankly, having no idea what to do.

Great… he was going to die here….

"Go John," Sherlock told him, "Go now."

"There's no point now is there?" John told him furiously, "Because there's not enough time to get away. And if we don't do this, other people will die!"

Sherlock looked down at the bomb, at a loss once more.

"Mind Place!" John exclaimed suddenly, "Go to your mind palace!"

Sherlock frowned at him.

"What is it, a super power now?"

"Shut up and go to it!"

"How is that supposed to help?"

"You've got every fact under the sun tucked away in there!"

"Oh, and you just suspect that I've got how to diffuse a bomb tucked away in there somewhere?"

"YES!"

Sherlock shrugged, "Worth a shot."

He shut his eyes for a few moments, nearly shouting about before he opened them and found John staring at him expectantly.

The look on his face said it all. Nothing…. They were going to die.

"Oh my God!"

Sherlock removed his scarf and bent down to try to diffuse the bomb, or figure out how, while John paced.

"This is it… Oh my God."

He heard Sherlock struggling with something and he turned around to see him staring at the bomb, helpless.

"Sorry," He told him sincerely, causing a wave of emotion to hit John.

All the fury that had been eating at him, all the anger, all the hurt, all the loneliness…. It all hit him at once.

"What?"

"I… I can't do it John," Sherlock whispered to him, fright and sadness filling his voice, "I can't do it, I don't know how. Forgive me."

"What?" John asked scathingly at his words.

"Please John," he begged on his knees, "Please forgive me, for all the hell that I caused you, that I caused Kylie."

"No, no, no, no, this is a trick."

"No."

"Another one of your bloody tricks… You are just trying to get me to say something nice."

"No, not this time."

"To make you look good, even though you behave like… John trailed off as he fought his own damn emotions once more.

He stood there for a moment, trying to take it all in.

The fact that he was about to die.

The fact he had just been okay with his life and Sherlock had waltzed right back in.

The fact that he and Kylie and sort of made up… finally…

The fact that he had a girlfriend.

The fact that he had just been asked for forgiveness… by the man who didn't deserve it.

"I…" John began furiously, "I had wanted you not to be dead; for it to be a trick; for you to just pop back up and be there for both Kylie and I. Not having her, or you in my life was the damn hardest thing I had ever had to gone through."

"Yeah, well… be careful what you wish for," Sherlock told him, "If I hadn't have come back, you wouldn't have been standing there. You wouldn't have had to talk to Kylie…"

"You're missing the damn point," John told him, causing him to look up in confusion, "I wanted Kylie back in my life. I wanted you to be alive, I just don't understand and am a bit pissed off that I had to be miserable for two bloody years before either of those things came to happen and now… now…" he turned around and tried to compose himself.

"Look. I find it difficult. I find it difficult to say this sort of stuff," John told him in a hurried whisper.

"I know."

"You were, the best, and the wisest man that I have ever known. And yes, of course, I forgive you. How could you think that Kylie and I would never forgive you?"

John gazed at his friend who was looking at him as if he were overwhelmed with emotion, that a blank gaze filled it instead.

He was out of time.. He had to be..

John took a deep breath and closed his eyes, waiting for the bomb to go off.

He heard Sherlock sound as if he were weeping.

_Why wasn't the bomb going off?_

The weeping went on for a moment until he realized that it wasn't sounding like weeping anymore.

… it sounded like… laughing?

John opened his eyes to see Sherlock Holmes laughing at him. He looked down in confusion to see the bomb clock stopped in between 1:28 and 1:29.

It was in that moment… John realized exactly what had happened.

It was a trick…

He had switched it off…

That Goddamn, rat…

"YOU UTTER…" John began so furious he couldn't see straight.

"Your face…" Sherlock laughed.

"YOU COMPLETE, UTTER…"

"I totally had you."

"You cock!" John said still mad, but relief beginning to take over, "I knew it! I knew it was all a trick!"

"Oh, but you said such sweet things. I'm touched… I really am. I didn't know you cared so much."

"You know, I will kill if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone. Kylie especially!"

Sherlock kept chuckling to himself.

"YOU KNEW HOW TO TURN IT OFF?!"

"There's an off switch," Sherlock pointed out calmly.

John looked and saw the switch, staring at it incredulously.

"There's always an off switch. Terrorists get into all sorts of trouble, unless there's an off switch."

"So why did you let me go through all that?"

"I did what I always do. I made a leap, and I put it all together. I have no idea how to turn all these silly little lights off."

John gaped at him as he saw police and the bomb-diffusing unit began running towards them, coming into view.

"And you did call the police?"

"Of course I called the police," Sherlock scoffed, still laughing, "Oh, Lord, I wish Kylie would have been here to see your face." 

"No, she would have punched you. And I… I am definitely going to kill you," John muttered furiously.

"Oh, Killing…" Sherlock muttered with a grin, "That was _so_ two years ago."

John tried to contain his laughter at his friend's joke as he walked off. He was furious. He wanted to punch a wall… but for the first time in two years, a small piece of normalcy had returned.

***& (* ()&# *(**

"What is she even doing in Argentina though?" Sherlock asked as they walked all the way up the stairs of 221B.

"I thought Mycroft told you?" John asked as he followed.

"Yes, but apparently he has a habit of lying to me."

"She's teaching at a University down there and working for the government identifying mass murder victims."

"And she can't come back?" Sherlock asked in confusion as they walked in.

"She's pissed…"

"Uh, yeah she is!" a female voice said from the armchairs.

John turned to see Janine waving at him with a pained smile while Karen was a bit more than pissed as she stared at her boyfriend.

"Oh, uh… Karen, hi. I didn't know you would still be here," John commented, "I was… er… just about to call you."

"Uh-huh," Karen said as she stood up.

"Sorry, we were… we were just…"

"Saving Britain from a terrorist attack?" Sherlock suggested.

Karen scoffed, "Yeah… right."

"We…actually did…" John told her.

"Right," Karen said, "Well, we are all going to go down to the pub, and having a pint, and a nice double date, like I was told I was going on and how my boyfriend was going to set up the famous Sherlock Holmes with my best friend."

Janine looked at Karen with a slight surprise as Sherlock looked at John questioningly.

"Set up? As in date?" Sherlock asked John quietly, "I told you we should have called Kylie back."

"Pardon?" Janine asked, hearing the conversation.

"He very enthused to meet you," John quickly told Janine with a smile, looking at Karen, "Yeah, lets go get a pint, babe."

"Babe?" Sherlock scoffed and began laughing, as the rest of the room remained silent.

He slowly stopped laughing as he suddenly realized that no one else in the room was laughing, stopping and clearing his throat.

"So pint?" John said as he tried to usher Karen and Janine out the door to calm the storm, he knew was coming.

"No thanks, I'm fine," Sherlock said as he walked into the flat and sat down at the desk.

"Sherlock, NOW!" John said through gritted teeth as the two women walked out of the flat.

"Uh… no," Sherlock told him, "I need to call Kylie."

"And she wont answer," John told him, "Its three in the morning over there. Call her later."

"Fine, I don't want to go."

"Karen, we'll be right there," John told her before shutting the door and rounding on Sherlock.

"Sherlock, you promised. I just went through all that shit… and you… you need to do this for me," John told him.

"You were really going to initiate her interest in me?" Sherlock asked.

"No, Karen just said date, as in single," John told him.

"Then no. I have to get a hold of Kylie. I need her here."

"You mean you want her here," John told him.

Sherlock looked at him to see him smiling.

"You miss her. You always have. I know for a fact that you cared for her… maybe borderline love. All that I know, is she felt the same way. You jumping nearly ruined her," John told him, "If you go on this date, and act cordial, I will help you make up with Kylie and ask her to be your girlfriend."

"Who… who said I wanted her to be my girlfriend…?"

"Fine. Have fun." John told him as he got up and began walking out of the flat.

"John, wait," Sherlock said, shutting his eyes, trying to muster up the strength.

John turned and looked at his friend, waiting for his answer.

"How…?" Sherlock began shutting his eyes once more, "How do I ask her to be my… you know…?"

"Girlfriend?" John suggested, "You can't even say the word. Seriously."

"Are you going to help me or not?" Sherlock asked, "This is stupid. Never mind."

"No, its not," John said as he walked over to him, "Let me guess. Kylie is the first person to make you feel warm and jittery inside. Like the whole world stops moving when you kiss her or hold her. Its something you try to stop thinking about, but you cant…. That is something special that you never want to let go. Even if it means asking a girl to be your girlfriend… after faking you're death and her being extremely angrily with you."

Sherlock looked at him.

"Go on this, and I'll talk her through. Hopefully into coming back sooner than later. You aren't the only one that misses her."

"Fine," Sherlock said begrudgingly as he got up and grabbed his coat.

"Good," John said as he walked to the door, before stopping and turning around. "Few rules. No deductions, no rude comments, just smile and be a fucking gentlemen."

"Because that's classy," Sherlock scoffed as he walked out.

John stared at the wall for a moment as he asked himself a single question.

…_. This really wasn't going to go well, was it?_

**Pretty…re-hashy… I know… but this is (I Think) the one and only re-hashy chapter… so please bare with it. It's a set up for a lot of upcoming stuff…**

**Review? Pretty please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ugh, I am so sorry this took me so long guys! It's been a lot of work and exam after exam after exam for me lately! I apologize if parts of this chapter don't make sense… I was a bit off when I was writing it. Damn time change…**

**Anyhow, a HUGE Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I am so sorry that I don't have a chance right now to thank you all individually, but just know I am giving you each a virtual hug!**

**Anyhow, ENJOY!**

Silence.

The table at the pub down the street contained four people sitting around it in pure silence. The same silence they had been sitting in for the last five to ten minutes.

John had practically drained his glass between the awkwardness and the fact that Karen was glowering at him. Sherlock was sighing loudly and staring boredly at his surrounding, while Janine was running her finger around her glass awkwardly.

"So, you solve cases then?" Janine asked Sherlock, obviously trying to make conversation.

"Obviously," Sherlock replied, not looking at her as he looked around.

Janine raised her eyebrows at him and turned back to Karen, who was just fuming even more.

"Sherlock, why don't you tell Janine here about our last case," John told him, "You know, the one where we had to run out and stop a bomb from going off and that's why we were late…?"

Sherlock turned and looked at John in confusion as John looked at him trying to convey his hint to try to have Sherlock back him up that they were actually on a case and not just ditching the women currently sitting at their table.

"Case…" Karen scoffed.

"It was a case Karen!" John said in exasperation.

"If this is just a cover to hide some girlfriend that you have on the side, John Watson…"

"For the last time Karen… I AM NOT CHEATING ON YOU!"

"A bit awkward this," Janine said to Sherlock out of the corner of her mouth.

Sherlock looked at her for a moment, as if he had seen her for the first time before he nodded.

"A bit."

Janine's smirk grew as the other couple bickered in the background. She set her glass down and placed her arms on the table, leaning towards the dark haired detective with a glint in her eye.

_Pupils dilated…_

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Sherlock turned towards a bickering John and Karen.

"We were working a case," he said hurriedly, "Bomb below parliament. You ladies just walked into the room when we had figured out where it was."

Karen stopped and stared at Sherlock for a moment.

"How do I know you aren't covering for him?" Karen asked.

Sherlock sighed loudly, "Do you really not watch the news or read the damned paper?"

Karen raised an eyebrow at him, "What do you think I am incompetent?"

"Yes, that's exactly…" Sherlock began before he stopped himself at John's glare.

He had a choice to make: finish his sentence and find satisfaction with telling off this annoying woman, or get John to help him understand what was going on with Kylie….

"… Opposite of what I meant," Sherlock muttered as he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, trying not to gag at his own words.

John shut his eyes and let out a breath of relief. At least the storm was on its way to calming down now.

"Good, so that's settled," John said trying to recover and change the topic as quickly as he could, "So what about…?" He began before Sherlock quickly leaned forward to talk to John.

"Why is Kylie mad at me?" he asked in a sort of low voice, that was not unheard by both Janine and Karen.

"Kylie?" Janine asked, puzzled.

"Now is not the time Sherlock," John said through gritted teeth.

"Who's Kylie?" Karen said crossing her arms once more.

"A friend," John told her, "My friend who is in Argentina…"

"You've never mentioned her before," Karen responded.

"You promised me you would help me talk to her," Sherlock told him, "How can I do that if she is mad at me, and I don't know why?"

"She's mad at you because you jumped off a building, faked a suicide, lied to all of us about it, and then reappear out of nowhere when she needed you the most," John snapped at Sherlock, before turning to Karen, "And it's a long story. We were mad at each other for a long time."

"You sure she's not the whore you are sleeping with?" Karen asked.

"No, obviously not," John told her in pure agitation, "Since she's JUST a friend, and is currently in Argentina."

"I gave her clues though. Not my fault she didn't figure it out. I practically told her I was alive," Sherlock told John, still on his own individual topic.

"An obscure name and a squash ball do not suffice as you telling her you were alive," John told him angrily.

"It was perfectly clear!"

"Maybe to you it was!" John told him, "You care for her. So you need to buck up, apologize and then…" he trailed off as he eyed his already angry girlfriend and the woman he was supposed to be setting Sherlock up with on the other side of the table, looking at him expectantly.

"Ask her to be my _girlfriend_?" Sherlock snapped, using a slight disgust with the word girlfriend, "Yes, you keep saying that…"

"You have a girlfriend?" Janine asked, slightly puzzled and hurt at the same time.

"What?!" Karen gaped in fury.

"No, he doesn't have a girlfriend at the current moment," John told the women, trying to brush off exactly what he had hoped to avoid.

"That's what you constantly tell me Kylie is," Sherlock retorted.

"Sherlock, shut up!" John snapped.

"I don't fucking believe it!" Karen said as she stood up in fury, "You were really going to set my friend up on a date with an already taken man?" 

"What? No! Karen, he's just confused!" John said as Karen stormed out of the pub, John close behind, leaving Janine and Sherlock watching them leave in complete puzzlement.

"So you don't have a girlfriend then?" Janine asked calmly as she turned back towards Sherlock.

He looked at her oddly as John arguing with Karen outside caught his eye.

"No."

"Hmm," Karen said as she finished her drink, "Still want to hook up then?"

Sherlock turned and stared at her with slight alarm.

"No sex though," Janine told him pointedly, "Not yet at least. I'm not that easy."

"What?" Sherlock said, trying not to stutter.

"Look, I know you are into this Kylie girl, whoever she is. But, as you aren't in a relationship, and I want to get Karen off my back about 'having some fun' with a bloke, we should at least snog. You know help with the sexual tension and all?"

Janine just smiled at him as Sherlock was paling quickly, "That and you aren't bad lookin in the slightest."

Sherlock just stared, completely confused and taken aback by what was going on at the current moment.

"Uh… er… no thank you."

"Not even just a little snog out back?" Janine asked.

"I uh…" Sherlock began looking around the bar, "I would try the man in the green jumper at the counter," he told her, "Been smiling at you since you got here. Banker by the looks of his thumb. Commitment phobe. Been married twice, but I think he may be a suitable choice for the one time 'hook-up' as you call it."

Janine raised and eyebrow and surveyed the man Sherlock had been referring to, looking him up and down.

"You know, you may come in handy," Janine told him with a smile.

Sherlock just looked back down at his drink before he glanced back out at a still arguing John and Karen.

"She's a lucky woman," Janine said suddenly, causing Sherlock to look at her inquiringly, "This Kylie woman. You aren't even together and she's half way across the globe, and you are still faithful to her."

He frowned at her, not understanding what the woman was talking about.

"I mean I have never seen a man look more petrified about a shag," she laughed, smirking.

Sherlock didn't respond, just finished off his pint and stared at the table, trying to wrap his brain around what was going on at the current moment.

"Maybe if this Kylie gal doesn't work out, or in the next lifetime, give me a call," Janine told him as she got up, smiling at him as she walked over and kissed his cheek, "It was lovely to meet you Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock glanced up at her as she grinned at him over her shoulder before she sauntered over to the man in the green jumper, flirting with him.

Sherlock fought a smile as he watched Janine talk with the man. There was something about her that intrigued him; yet she was so ordinary.

He analyzed her, his eyes and brain turning on fully as he did so.

He stiffened as he looked at her.

_OH… that's why…._

**&#(* ()# **

Kylie unlocked the door of her hotel room as she removed her ear buds from her ears, trying to catch her breath from her run.

It was nearly five in the morning. She couldn't take the truck out to the gravesite until seven thirty, but she had given up on sleeping for the day. Out on her daily run trying to get rid of pent up emotion she had been dealing with since she had left London.

Things had changed though. John was talking to her again and Sherlock… well, he was actually alive.

This was a good thing, but it brought on a whole other set of circumstances in which she wasn't really sure how to deal with.

She was so furious at him for lying to her, faking his death, and then expecting everything to be alright between them. He had been almost cocky when telling her that he had left her clues, not once apologizing to her.

She knew she would forgive him someday, but right now, she just needed to still be furious with him.

What in the hell had he been doing those whole two years?

It didn't matter… what he had been doing didn't matter. It just mattered that she had needed him desperately at a time when he had abandoned her… just like she had done to everyone else in London….

She tossed her iPod on the bed, furious with herself for her past actions.

_You had no choice Kylie… you had to run… you know that…_

She had done the right thing to protect them from Thomas and her wormhole of a past… at least she hoped she did. This was hers to endure…

She took of her shirt and wiped her face with it, walking into the small bathroom and setting her hands on the sink as she took in her reflection. She didn't look like herself anymore. She had lost weight since she had been in Argentina; less food and a lot of running tended to do that. She still looked athletic as her eyes looked gaunt and her hair had lost its luster. That wasn't what made her stop and stare though; the two ugly scars that now ran diagonally across her ribcage down the top part of her stomach, with a third slashed through the two scars, made her stomach churn. Scars left from her most current attack; it had been Thomas's way of marking her, making her live everyday remembering exactly what he had done to her.

The three scars matched the four jagged lines on her hip hidden beneath her underwear line on the opposite side; both reminders of the damage Thomas had done to her. The two times he had made her just want to die, over and over again.

RING RING RING

Her phone ringing in the other room brought her out of her thoughts.

She frowned and glanced at her phone, wondering who would be calling this early in the morning.

_John Watson_

She smiled slightly and sat on the bed, picking up her phone.

"Well hello John," Kylie said as she reached for her water bottle, "A bit late in London, isn't it?"

"_Well, I think it's a bit early in Argentina now isn't it?"_

Kylie laughed at her friend's retort, "Touché Watson. Touché."

"_I try."_

"What makes you call this early? …. Or late I guess…"

"_Ah, multiple things…"_

Kylie raised an eyebrow at her friend's tone.

"Like what?"

"_Eh, I'll fill you in on most of it later, I'm almost to Baker Street now…"_

"Baker Street? I thought you moved out with your girlfriend?"

"_I don't know how much longer she'll be my girlfriend,"_ John said bitterly.

"Oh God, what happened?"

"_Sherlock, that's what happened."_

"I thought she met him when he tried to surprise you?"

"_She did… look, what I was calling to tell you is…" _John trailed off and sighed, causing Kylie to frown even more, "_Look, I forgave Sherlock through a bunch of random unforeseen circumstances and we got to talking…"_

"About what?" Kylie laughed slightly, "feelings? And did you braid each other's hair while you were at it?"

Silence.

"Sorry, you were saying…?" Kylie said, slightly ashamed of her quip, yet still laughing about it to herself.

"_Look Sherlock… well he really REALLY misses you,"_ John told her as Kylie felt herself stiffen at his words.

"_Kylie, I really think he cares about you… a lot… and he just doesn't know how to go about acting like a normal human being about it."_

Kylie felt herself stop breathing. Was John telling her what she thought he was telling her?

…Sherlock really, truly still cared about her? The note wasn't a bunch of bull?

Whatever they had had before he had jumped… it had been real?

"_He keeps asking about you and why you are mad at him, and how to get you to come back…"_

"He just wants me there to help with the cases, John."

She couldn't get her hopes up. This is all that was…

… all it was…

"_No, trust me. You think he would have asked me and sat through a humiliating 'date' which he butchered on complete accident just so that I would help him talk to you?"_

"He probably butchered it on purpose John, you know him…"

"_Kylie, the only reason he butchered it, was because he couldn't stop mentioning you."_

Her heart stopped beating in her chest for a moment.

…. Really?...

"_Look, I'm standing outside of Baker Street right now. I'm going to go up and have a talk with him, and then I know he's going to want to call you and ask you something…"_

"Ask me what?"

"_That's for him to ask you. Just all that I ask, is that you actually consider it. Don't let your anger with him at the current moment get in the way of that."_

"John, you cant just be cryptic like that!"

"_Yeah, I can. Because it's not my place. He'll probably call with the hour, so keep your phone handy."_

"John! I have work…."

Kylie stopped as she heard the dial tone, and pulled back looking at her phone in complete confusion.

He just hung up on her….

She sighed and looked at the floor.

_Sherlock cared for her?_

_What in the hell had just happened?  
_

**:D  
**

**More to come. **

**Review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**You guys are simply amazing! Seriously, I have had a really shitty week, and all of your amazing feedback help to put a smile back on my face. So really, thank you so much. **

**A huge thanks to xxxMadameMysteryxxx, CommanderwilliamsN7, moseleygab, , scarlet tribe, Israali Kotetsu, MiKaBlackPoynter, Dalonega Noquisi, KiyUzumaki, Slyork1991, bored411, Loveisafiarytale, DayDreamer1122, SirOlives, iheartdis, Gwilwillith, Optimistic Livvy, brooktroutlittleriver, Cookiespells4, and Drwholock for their amazing reviews!**

**This chapter isn't all that exciting and was written during the consumption of alcoholic beverages that were highly needed due to the shitty ass week that REALLY needs to be over. **

**Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy!**

John sighed outside the door of 221B. This was a big moment; not just for him, but for his friend as well.

He was literally about to walk into a flat, and talk to Sherlock Holmes about his feelings for his other friend who had more emotional baggage than any other human being known to man, and help a man who knew less than nothing about flirting as her out and get her to come home.

John pinched his brow and second-guessed himself.

_Should they really be together?_

They were perfect for each other. When they had been dancing around each other, he had never seen Sherlock so happy. Kylie had brought out a more sensitive side to the detective. Together they stimulated each other, moving quickly through cases and putting their solve rate through the roof.

But that wasn't what he was worried about… Sherlock was extremely rational, calculating. Kylie was similar in some respects but she saw the world in a completely light than he did. Twice a man had raped her, a man she had trusted… and now he was about to help Sherlock enter a relationship with her.

He had known this but a thought had just crossed his mind….

Sherlock had never truly opened himself up before in a romantic way. If Kylie entered this and freaked out, she would absolutely destroy him; essentially proving to Sherlock that love wasn't rational, or something that didn't even exist. If Kylie pulled away, he would hole up back into himself forever.

That, and Sherlock's sometimes lack of sensitivity probably wouldn't mix well.

Was he really going to help his friend open this can of worms?

Were they really going to be better together? Or worse apart?

The door opened suddenly, causing John to stumble forward slightly.

He looked up to see Sherlock with his hair sticking up, as if he had kept ruffling it out of stress.

"John, why are you standing outside of the flat? You know to come in."

John stared at his flat mate incredulously.

_You know to come in…._

What in the hell was he? A dog?

"Yeah, I just got here so…" John said as he pushed his way into the flat and plopped himself down in his usual armchair.

He looked at his friend. Sherlock's nerves were showing, as he knew exactly why John was here. He shut the door and looked around wildly, clearly panicking on the inside as he tried as hard as he could to play it cool.

John just stayed silent as he watched Sherlock begin to pace, practically twitching as he power walked through out the flat awkwardly.

"So…" John said calmly as he leaned forward on his knees, "Kylie…"

"What about her?" Sherlock asked quickly, trying to brush it off.

John raised an eyebrow at him again, "Uh… that's why I'm here. You texted me insisting that I help you talk to her."

"I thought you were with Karen?"

"I was. And I came over here," John told him simply.

"She's not mad?"

"Of course she is…" John sighed, "But look, this isn't about me. You want to ask Kylie to be your girlfriend."

"No one said that," Sherlock snapped.

John sighed in frustration and dropped his head.

_He still couldn't even admit it…_

"Yes, you did," John told him pointedly, "You asked me to help you talk to her and ask her to start a relationship with her and come back. You wouldn't shut up about it when I needed you to, and now you don't even want to bloody talk about it!"

Sherlock just hopped and squatted in his armchair, refusing to sit in it properly as he practically scratched the skin off his arms.

"Seriously?" John asked in frustration as he looked at him, "Why is it that you can never sit in a chair properly?"

Sherlock just looked at him as he hugged his knees to his chest.

John sighed and stared at his friend, obviously nervous out of his mind.

"Look, I already know you care about Kylie," John told him, trying to keep his frustration at a low, "So there's no use in denying it, or trying to be annoyed with the whole situation."

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue, but John held a hand up to stop him, "Ah, no. You want my help or not?"

Sherlock stared at him for a moment before huffing and plopping his feet down to the floor, sitting in the chair properly, drumming his fingers on the chair.

"What…" he muttered quietly as he looked everywhere, but at John, "What do I have to do..?"

John leaned back in his chair and looked at his friend.

"I have one question first," he asked, "Are you… completely positive you want Kylie back here?"

Sherlock looked at him, completely puzzled.

"Yes, of course, why?"

"Because Sherlock, things… things have changed," John told him delicately.

"Things? What things?"

"The fact that you 'died' and then randomly showed up out of the blue two years later, and the fact that Kylie was raped again…."

"Yeah… so…."

John sighed once more.

"This, is precisely what you need to be careful of Sherlock!" John chastised his friend, "She was raped. By a man she had been with for _years_. A man that she trusted, took that from her, beat her silly, and assaulted her. That, right there is going to damage a person."

"So… you are saying Kylie is damaged?" Sherlock asked slowly.

"In a way, yes," John told him, "But what I am really trying to say is, is that you have to be sure that you want this. That you will be okay with her freak outs and the scars that have been left. I know you care about her, more than you have ever cared about anyone before. Its big, and its scary, and its matters of the heart, but you just need to be prepared to face all of this."

"How is this different from before Kylie left?" Sherlock asked.

"SHE WAS KIDNAPPED, BEATEN AND RAPED BY HER EX WITHIN AN INCH OF HER LIFE, ONCE MORE BEFORE YOU JUMPED OFF A ROOF AND FAKE DIED!" John yelled at him in frustration.

"But she had still been raped and had those horrible things done to her before I jumped!"

"IT'S THE FACT THAT IT HAPPENED AGAIN! AND YOU LET HER DOWN BY NOT BEING THERE! YOU WERE THE FIRST THING SHE ASKED FOR AFTER SHE WOKE UP AND FOUND OUT SHE HAD BEEN RAPED!"

"MAYBE IT WAS BECAUSE I HAD TO JUMP IN ORDER TO PROTECT ALL OF YOU AND TAKE DOWN THOMAS, AND RIP HIM TO SHREDS SO HE COULDN'T EVER TOUCH HER EVER AGAIN!" Sherlock yelled back.

John went silent as he leaned back in his chair, looking at his friend.

He had known that Sherlock had said that he had faked his death for two years to protect them… but his main goal had been to take Thomas down once and for all? All to give the bastard what he deserved and prevent him from touching Kylie ever again?

….And he hadn't even known that Kylie had been raped again…

Sherlock just swallowed and glared at the floor, brooding once more.

"You… did all that you did for the last two years, just to try to find Thomas and give him what he deserved for what he did to Kylie, and you didn't even know that she had been raped once more?"

"Mycroft told me she didn't even have a scratch on her…." Sherlock muttered bitterly, "and I still didn't find the son of a bitch."

John leaned back in his chair and looked at his friend in slight shock.

He knew he cared deeply for Kylie… but this… this was much more than deep caring…

"You feel the need to protect her," John asked him quietly.

"Yes of course, she's my friend."

"No. She's more than that," John told him, "You just don't feel the need to protect her; it's a burning desire."

Sherlock sighed and ran a hand over his face, "This is stupid, I should have never asked…"

"No, this is exactly why you should have asked. I'm just…. Taken a back, that's all?"

"Why that I have a heart?" Sherlock snapped.

"No, I always knew you had that… deep down. But I never thought that you were in l…."

John literally had to bite his tongue to stop the sentence from flowing out of his mouth.

"In what?" Sherlock asked, completely confused.

John fought a smile on his face.

_Love… Sherlock Holmes was undoubtedly in love…_

_But there was no way he could tell him that…_

"Nothing. I don't even know what I was saying," John said quickly, "Anyway, when you call her…"

"Wait, you are going to help me?" Sherlock asked.

It was John's turn to frown now, "Uh, yeah, that's why I'm here now aren't I?"

"I just.. thought after you yelling at me…"

"That I wouldn't help you anymore?" John asked with an eyebrow raised, "Yeah, because me yelling usually stops you from doing whatever you are doing and me giving into helping you with it."

A corner of Sherlock's mouth pulled up into a smile at his friend's quip.

"Anyway, when you call her. You need to apologize, sincerely for faking your death and not telling her…"

"But I did…"

"Whatever you do, do not call her an idiot for not figuring out the so-called 'clue' you sent her," John told him sternly.

"But why not? She should have figured it out…!"

"Do you want her to come back and be your girlfriend, or not?"

Sherlock stopped and glared at the ground, not wanting to admit it.

"Look, its going to be harder when you actually have to ask her, so you might as well practice saying it."

"Yes," Sherlock admitted disgruntledly, "I want her to be my…. My…" he paused, unable to get the words out, "Why does society say that we have to use that term?" he snapped, the word "_Girlfriend_ is so colloquial!"

"No, its really not," John told him, "And it means something to everyone. Just ask her to be your girlfriend and come up with pet names later…"

"What? Like _Babe?"_

"You know what? No one asked your opinion on what I call Karen."

"You did when…"

"Just use the word girlfriend tonight, and come up with a different term with her later," John told him.

Sherlock stopped for a moment as he looked at ground, causing John to frown once more.

"John, do you…." He stopped and sighed, avoiding his friend's eye once more, "Do you, do you think she'll say yes?"

John fought a grin once more at his friends nervousness.

"Yeah, I do," John told him with a smile, "I think that if you apologize sincerely, tell her everything you just told me, and play your cards right, she will say yes. It may not happen right away, but once she fully forgives you and takes the time she needs, it will."

Sherlock looked at him for a moment.

John had never seen his friend so frightened and vulnerable. Not even when they had been facing that bomb earlier in the night. The fact that he would rather face down a bomb and a horrible situation than make a phone call to a woman and ask her to be his girlfriend.

He smiled and leaned forward once more.

"Now, here's what you need to do…"

**&#&(* ()# **

Kylie leaned up against the cool tile of the shower with her eyes shut, banging her head against the wall softly as she fought not to cry.

_What in the hell was going on?_

_Sherlock wanted to ask her something?_

_What?_

_What on earth could he possibly have to ask her that John would call her about before?_

_God! Why was she so confused?!_

She put her head in her hands and wiped the water off of her face before shutting off the water and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around her body as she stepped out of the small shower.

She sighed to herself as she dressed quickly and used the towel to get the extra water out of her hair as she sat on the bed, opening her laptop and glancing at her phone.

She wanted nothing than to just run from this situation and go to the gravesite, but it was only six in the morning. She had an hour and a half to kill before the truck left.

_Damn John Watson for making her sit here and ponder what in the hell was going on…._

The chiming of her Skype calling drew her attention away from her thoughts.

SHERLOCK HOLMES

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

_This was happening…._

Her fingers hesitated over the mouse to press accept.

_Did she want to take this call?_

_No…_

_Its Sherlock, you know you want to take it._

_No you don't need to open Pandora's box…_

_Dammit Kylie, you know you need to know…_

_Curiosity killed the cat…_

She shut her eyes, took a breath, and pressed accept before she had time to think about it even more.

_Well…. Here went nothing…._

**I know… I cut it off just before the good stuff. But on the other hand, I know myself and that I have a lot to do, and little patience with the world, that I will most likely post the next one with in the next few days, so please stay tuned!  
**

**And review?**

**Please?**


	6. Chapter 6

**You guys are simply amazing! Seriously, thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews! I really appreciate it. **

**This chapter isn't the best, because there was so much that I wanted to put into it, but I couldn't do everything at once. So there will be more to come! Don't worry!**

**I really hope you guys enjoy!**

…._ Here went nothing…_

Kylie pressed the accept button and her heart sank as 221B Baker Street and Sherlock Holmes materialized in front of her.

Her heart turned in her chest at the sight of him. A flicker of hope rose in her chest as that strange shot of electricity shot through her body.

_Pull yourself together Kylie. _

He practically twitched in the background as he nervously looked at the screen.

"Kylie… er, hi," he said as he shifted in his chair, looking at something or someone behind the screen.

Kylie narrowed her eyes at the screen. Something was going on.

"Uh, hey," Kylie said nervously.

_God, why was she nervous? This was stupid. It was Sherlock. _

"I uh… er…" he began trying to spit out what he was trying to say, glancing once more behind the screen, "I've er… been wanting to talk to you."

"You've been wanting to talk to me?" Kylie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you called?" she asked simply.

"I did, you hung up on me…" he began before something off screen caught his eye and he looked down, collecting his thoughts for a moment, "I just wanted to call … uh, and apologize."

She looked at him oddly.

_He was apologizing right out of the gate, and kept glancing at someone or something behind the screen as if he were being coached…_

…_.something was most definitely going on…_

"Apologize?"

"Yes, apologize, Kyleigha. Did Argentina…?"

A cough emanated faintly from the other end of the line, causing Sherlock to shut his eyes and take a deep breath before opening them and looking back down at the table, avoiding Kylie's stare on the computer screen.

"Yes, I wanted to apologize," he told her once more, "I am now aware of many things that I was not aware of the last time that I spoke to you."

Kylie was silent on the other end of the line.

"I am now acutely aware of the pain that I have caused you," Sherlock told her as he looked down at the table, toying with a pen that happened to be lying nearby. "Not only when I faked my death, despite…." he trailed off once, looking behind the screen before bringing his view back down to the pen, "Not only when I faked my death, but also how I was not there for you in a time that you needed…"

He paused, squinting at whatever was behind the screen, shaking his head as he wrinkled his nose in confusion, and Kylie heard slight muttering that was not coming from Sherlock.

"… a shoulder to cry on?" Sherlock asked someone behind the screen, "That's just idiotic! Really?"

"Sherlock?" Kylie said with a forced smile on her face, debating on the best way to murder her friend for not just telling her this was what was going to happen.

"Yes?" he asked as he looked back at the screen, trying to play off the fact that he had been talking to someone else.

"Tell John to leave the room please?" she asked politely.

Sherlock looked at the screen for a moment, a blank look on his face as his eyes flicked up behind the screen once more.

"John isn't here," he told her simply.

"Yeah, and I also know when you are lying to me," Kylie told him, "I wasn't born yesterday."

Sherlock just looked at her.

"Fine! Fine Kylie, I'm leaving," John's voice said behind the screen before he popped into the screen, "But just… listen and come back… please."

"Okay, bye John," Kylie said smiling at him.

Sherlock looked at John fearfully, as if silently begging him not to leave.

Kylie heard a moment of silence as John slinked off the screen, watching Sherlock's face contort into confusion before the door shut, and he just stared in confusion, before a look of realization came over his face.

"John is still standing by the door, isn't he?" Kylie asked with a knowing smile.

"FINE!" John yelled once more, "I'm really leaving! I will call you later!" he yelled angrily.

The door slammed, and Sherlock looked at what Kylie could only assume was now an actual empty room.

"Is he actually gone?" Kylie asked.

He looked back at the screen with slight vulnerability and fear in his eyes that told her that John was actually gone.

"Yes."

"Good, then if you want to talk, lets talk," Kylie told him calmly.

"I thought we were talking….?"

"No, you were saying what John was telling you to say," Kylie told him, "If you want to talk, I will talk with you, but I want to hear what you have to say, not what John is telling you."

He looked at the screen for a moment, "Fair enough."

Kylie smiled at him and leaned forward towards the screen, "Why were you letting John put words in your mouth to begin with? I have never seen you allow someone to speak for you."

"I um… he…. Umm…"

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him.

_Seriously? Why was he acting so nervous?  
_

"Are you going to stroke?" Kylie chided.

"No, of course not."

"Then why are you acting strangely?"

"I'm not acting strangely."

"Alright drama queen…"

Sherlock glared at her, which just made her smile even more.

"Like I said before, I want to apologize to you, for what I … put you through," he told her as he dropped his gaze once more.

"No, that's why John made you call. Is this some ploy to get me to come back…?"

"Dammit Kylie!" Sherlock snapped, slamming his hand down on the table and making her jump, "I am trying my best to apologize for what I have done, so that you will come back to London and I can ask you…" He stopped shutting his eyes and trailing off as he took a deep breath, "…ask you to be my…. Girlfriend…"

Kylie felt her heart stop beating in her chest as her blood literally froze in her veins.

_She couldn't have heard that right… _

_She was imagining things. _

"So sorry. Sorry again!" Sherlock continued to rant, "I don't know how any of this bloody stuff works or why John was telling me to say any of those idiotic things, but his advice was my best bet to getting you to come back and agree to be in… in… a relationship… with me."

_Relationship?_

"…however mundane that sounds, or how much I think that feelings are irrational…."

"Shut up," Kylie bit out quietly, causing him to stare at the screen in slight shock, stopping his ramblings midstride.

She needed a moment of quiet to think, her brain was spinning, her heart was in shock…. She couldn't feel, she couldn't breathe….

"Just shut up, just for a moment."

She felt her hand begin to shake as she shut her eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to come back to reality.

"Are you serious?" she asked after a moment, "you want to be in a … relationship? With me?"

"Yes," he told her quietly.

"You are completely serious?" Kylie asked in a quiet and dangerous voice, bordering between shock and anger, "Because if you are just saying this to get me to come back…. If this is one of your goddamn tricks…"

"Why is everyone saying that?" Sherlock wondered out loud.

"If this is one of your tricks, I will beat your ass so hard…" she trailed off as she heard her own voice shaking with anger and emotion as she fought tears.

Sherlock just looked at her, his face softening as he finally shut his mouth and watched her silently drop her head and wipe her eyes as she tried to process what was going on.

"John told me to tell you a lot of things," he began quietly as he fiddled with the pen once more, "Told me that I needed you see how much I missed you, and how sorry I am for what I did to you."

Kylie slowly looked up at him, shocked by the amount of vulnerability and discomfort on his face as he told her this.

"And told me not to tell you that the reason I jumped was for you…"

She looked at him incredulously, "For me?"

Sherlock looked at her face and immediately realized why John had told him not to tell her that; her look of hurt and confusion had gone to seething anger in less than a second.

"You are telling me, that you faked your own goddamn death, for me?" she asked.

Sherlock looked at her, semi-frightened of the woman.

"Yes."

"That you ripped my heart and soul out of my body, and nearly killed John and your other friends in the process, for me?"

"I think you are…"

"You are NOT going to tell me what I am, or am not right now," she snapped at him, "You have no idea what you put John and I through. How guilty I felt for leaving them all there to protect them. I had lost you, and I wasn't going to lose anyone else."

Sherlock frowned.

_What was she talking about?_

"So don't you _dare_ say that the reason you jumped, was for me; because you know it wasn't. It was goddamn selfish Sherlock Holmes."

"And running away to Argentina wasn't?" he countered, unable to stop himself.

"I did that to get Thomas away from you all. So don't you dare try to say that you know what I have been through, because you don't. No one does."

Sherlock went silent for another moment.

"Two years Sherlock," Kylie told him quietly as she had tears running down her face, "Two goddamn years you were gone. John and I fell out of touch, and each of us were going through our own personal hell."

"I am sincerely sorry for that Kyleigha," he told her quietly, "I did not know the extent of the damage my actions would cause you or John, or what Thomas had really done to you…"

"That, doesn't matter," Kylie said quickly, wanting to avoid the subject of her rape and disregarded his comment immediately.

Sherlock bit his tongue. He wanted her back in London, he wanted to hold her, feel the softness of her hair, see the real light reflect in her eyes…

_God, he needed to pull himself together…_

She needed to answer his question.

"Come back to London," he said quietly after a moment, "Please."

"I…" Kylie began shaking her head.

"Please, John needs you. I need you."

"Please, neither of you need me…"

"I want you."

The words hit Kylie hard as she looked up at the screen.

She knew the words did not have a sexual context, but the look on his face was so sincere. After what Thomas had did to her, she doubted that anyone would ever _really_ want her ever again. She had far too much baggage, too much emotional damage for any sane person to take that on.

"Sherlock…" she said slowly, closing her eyes as she tried to control her emotions, "Sherlock, I am so broken, so damaged… you don't know it yet, but that is not someone you want to begin a relationship with."

"I don't think you have the right to tell me what I want and what I don't want," Sherlock told her with a slight smile.

Kylie didn't know why, but his words made her laugh lightly.

She stopped laughing and shook her head, "I'm a pretty fucked up individual, Sherlock. Trust me."

"Not as fucked up as I am."

Kylie looked up at him.

"I mean who fakes their own death?"

She laughed again, partial out of anger and partially out of relief.

"I… I meant what I said in that text, Ky," he told her quietly, avoiding her eye, in a barely audible "I… I… care for you."

She fought not to let a sob out as she looked at him before she put her head in her hands.

_He cared for her… despite what had happened…_

"Will you come back?"

She wiped her face and stared at him for a moment.

"No," she whispered to him, "Not yet. I can't come back yet."

Sherlock looked as if a knife had gone through his chest.

"I need another two months to work through what I have been through on my own," she told him.

He dropped his gaze and nodded, looking like a kicked puppy.

"Its not fair to you if I came back right now, as a ball of emotional wreckage. I cant put that on you."

He looked up at her in confusion.

_On him?_

"My sabbatical is over in two months," she told him, "If you give that time to me to work that out, I will come back to London then. Because as mad as I am at you, I care about you far too much…"

Sherlock looked up at her in shock.

_Wait, she cared too?_

She smiled at him and wiped the tears out of her eyes, "That's the reason I was so mad in the first place. The man I cared about was suddenly pulled out of my life."

"So, you'll be… my girlfriend?"

Kylie laughed, "Why do you say it with such distain?"

"I hate the term."

She laughed once more and wiped her eyes, "Well, when I get back to London, we'll figure out. Give me until I am done with my sabbatical and then we will talk about a relationship."

Sherlock looked down. It wasn't a yes, it wasn't a no, but it was a time range for her to come back.

"Can you give me that?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay," she nodded, "Look, I uh, have to get to the gravesite, but I will talk to you in a few days and we'll talk more about it?"

Sherlock felt a smile come over his face as the woman looked more relax on the other side of the screen, before he nodded.

"Yeah. Take care of yourself."

"I will," she smiled, "you too."

"Eat something, you've lost weight."

Kylie laughed, "Leave it to you to know my weight over computer call."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she laughed, "Goodbye Sherlock."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, goodbye."

Kylie pressed the end call and stared at the blank screen in front of her.

_Did that just happen?_

**Not the most exciting one, but get ready guys…**

**Review? Pretty please?**


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are simply amazing! Seriously! I didn't even imagine I would have this much feedback so quickly! A HUGE Thanks to my amazing reviewers; KiyUzumaki, Loveisafairytale, Israali Kotetsu, JustDance231, Drwholock, BananaTurtle, scarlet tribe, NanamiYatsumaki, brooktroutlittleriver, Gwilwillith, DayDreamer1122, bored411, Carlypso, Ammaviel, My guest reviewer, pineapple lover, CommanderWilliamsN7, MiKaBlackPOynter, Slyork1991, xxxMadameMysteryxxx, and Silver-Angelic-Lilly for their amazing reviews!**

**Anyhow, I am so sorry that it took me so long to post this, but it's a long one for you guys!**

**Enjoy!**

Kylie didn't know how long it was that she had been staring at her computer, trying to process what had just happened.

_Sherlock asked her to be his girlfriend…._

_He cared for her…_

_He claimed to have jumped for her…_

_For her…._

What in the hell did it all mean? Was this just some elaborate plot to get her to come back to London?

No, it couldn't be. He had looked so damn sincere.

_He's a good liar…_

_Yes, but you see through it…_

She felt herself blink for the first time.

He cared… he actually cared…. Despite what she had been through…

She sighed and put her head in her hands as a small smile came over her face.

_He cared…._

How was she going to do this though? She had two months before she went back to London. Was she going to be ready to be involved with someone, let alone Sherlock Holmes, the man who had never been in a relationship?

She had a lot of thinking to do…

***&#(* *()) **

John paced the lower hallway of 221 in front of the stairs, just as he had been doing for the last twenty minutes, eagerly waiting for the results of his friends' conversation.

He had spent the prior hour telling Sherlock exactly how he needed to go about doing this, but once he left the room, he doubted the detective had stuck with the plan he had laid out for him…

Who was he kidding though? Its not like John was immensely successful with women in the first place…

He knew Kylie though, and how to avoid certain topics with her; that is what Sherlock needed to work on… immensely…

John stopped pacing for a second and listened carefully.

Silence…

Were they finished? 

He climbed the stairs eagerly, pausing at the door as he listened for any sign of Kylie's voice or low talking on Sherlock's part.

Hearing nothing he cracked the door and peered into 221B, seeing a perfectly still Sherlock and a blank computer screen.

He opened the door and walked into the flat, staring at his friend questioningly as the blank gaze became more and more worrisome.

"So, uh, how'd it go?" John asked as casually as he could, as he took his seat in his typical armchair.

Silence.

"Fine," Sherlock said shortly as he continued staring.

John raised an eyebrow.

This was definitely not the response he was expecting to Sherlock actually getting a girlfriend.

"So… when is she coming back?"

"2 months," he told him flatly with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

"Wait, 2 months?" John asked in shock, trying to understand if he had heard the right information, "Why is she staying in Argentinia for two more months?"

"I don't know, you are the expert on women," Sherlock said bitterly as he snapped shut his laptop and got up out of his chair, walking towards the fireplace.

"Is she your girlfriend then?" John asked, praying that at least one part of the conversation had gone well.

"We'll discuss it when she gets back…" he said as he trailed off, picking up that days paper.

"What…?" John began to ask in confusion.

He didn't even have time to finish the sentence as Sherlock had already grabbed his coat, and crossed the living room to the door and walking out of the flat completely, paper in hand.

John shut his eyes and sighed once more as he sat in the now empty flat.

Sherlock avoiding a topic meant one thing; he was brooding. He would never admit it, but John knew this whole 'storming out of the flat'-thing was because he was upset that he wasn't going to see her for two more months, after two years of missing her.

Even John had to admit, life with Sherlock once more hadn't even seemed quite normal, but that was only because Kylie was the missing link.

He pulled out his mobile and dialed Kylie's number. It only rang a single ring and a half before the call was forwarded to voicemail, telling him that she had obviously pressed ignore on her phone.

…Great, now even Kylie was avoiding him…

What in the hell had happened while he was downstairs? 

**&#*( (*) #( **

Kylie sighed once more as she finished writing her report, glancing back at her 'visitor' on the table. She knew she was doing good here, but it didn't mean she was counting down the days until she went back to London.

She ran a hand through her hair and tried not to smile as she looked at her report stating the evidence of torture the victim on her table had been through. Since Sherlock had called her a month ago, they hadn't had a chance to talk on Skype due to his case schedule and her own wrap of her sabbatical, but they had been emailing frequently back and forth.

The emails had been sweet... weirdly sweet. He truly was sorry for what he had done, and she doubted that John had had anything to do with the emails… or even known about them. They seemed too emotional for him to actually been sharing this information with John.

She really had no idea what was going on between her and the consulting detective, but she couldn't help to be excited to move back to London.

…._Things are finally getting better… just one more month here…_

She felt better. After making up with John (despite the fact she hadn't talked to him in a bit) and talking to Sherlock, she began to feel normalacy filter back into her life. She had stopped running as much, even taken up yoga. She was getting there, she was healing, and now she had one more month before she could be back to her real life.

…_Maybe even in a real relationship…_

As if on cue, her phone began ringing, she glanced over at it and frowned as she saw John's name flashing across the screen.

She hadn't talked to John in a few weeks and Sherlock hadn't mentioned anything that had been going on other than a few cases…

…on second thought, he hadn't even mentioned John in those cases. She had just assumed John had been working on them with him.

She frowned and picked up the phone.

"Hey John," Kylie greeted as she shut the folder of her report and added it to the stack on her desk, "How's it goin?"

"Uh, bad Kylie," John said in a slightly nervous and tense voice, "Have you talked to Sherlock lately?"

Kylie froze and frowned; John saying "bad" and "have you spoken to Sherlock?" in the same sentence, was never a good thing.

"Uh, we haven't spoken directly but we've been emailing, why?"

"When was the last time you heard from him?" John asked nervously.

"Uh, let me look," Kylie said as she pulled forward her laptop and pulled up her email, "John, you are worrying me. What's going on?"

"Just… when was the last time you heard from him?"

"Four days ago," Kylie said looking at the email date, "I only had a chance to email him back this morning, "I've been in meetings and trying to get my presentation and reports in order."

"Shit," John sighed.

"What's going on?"

"I haven't seen or heard from Sherlock in a month," John told her, "I thought he was avoiding me about the whole thing with you. I didn't think that he would actually be emailing you as he was brooding about not seeing you…"

"I told him I needed to work on stuff with myself before I am even close to being able to begin a healthy relationship," Kylie told him, not understanding what was going on, "Why? You haven't been working on the cases with him?"

"No, he hasn't returned my phone calls or anything."

"Well, I mean he's been emailing me, we know he's okay. And hey, gives you more time to be with Karen."

"Karen and I broke up."

"Oh… God, John. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It wasn't going to last and she was slightly crazy."

"Yeah, but still…"

"Its fine. It hurts, but its fine," John said quickly, "Look, I'm just worried. I have a feeling something is wrong. I mean if he's been talking to you, why is he avoiding me?"

"Look, you are probably overreacting…"

"No, Kylie I'm not. You are the one who taught me to follow my intuition, and right now, my intuition is telling me something is wrong… very VERY wrong."

Kylie paused as she flipped through the email. Could he be right? Could this email have been faked? Was Sherlock really in trouble.

That shaky feeling in her stomach began to grow.

…_that infamous gut feeling…_

A knock echoed on the other end of the line.

"Hold on, that's my door," John told her.

Kylie held as she heard a panicked woman in the background talking to him in a soft panicking voice.

This went on for a few minutes as Kylie's mind raced and the gut-feeling grew exponentially.

…_Something was wrong… dammit John…_

The phone fumbled on the other end of the line before John's voice came back on the line.

"Look Kylie, can I call you back later? My neighbor's son has gone missing. He has a drug habit and she needs me to go find him."

"Yeah, go help her," Kylie said as she shut her eyes and shook her head, "I'll let you know if I hear from him."

"Okay, thanks Kylie," John told her, "I'll call you."

"Yeah, bye. Be safe."

"Always."

Kylie hung up the phone and put her head in her hands, before rereading the email she had read nearly ten times.

It sounded like him, but then again, it was emotional. Almost as if someone who knew her and him had written it….

A shock ran through her spine.

…Thomas… Thomas could have him. John could be right.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she shut her laptop and got up, grabbing her bag, and shoving her laptop into it.

She ran out of the room, nearly running into her assistant Raul as he brought another body into makeshift lab.

"Oh! Doctor Gibbs, where are you running off to?"

"Back to London!" she yelled over her shoulder as she ran as fast as she could to the truck, leaving a frowning Raul behind.

He knew her leaving was coming, but he didn't know what had triggered her finally making up her mind to go back to the UK, but he knew it was the best for her.

**#*( &(# *)#**

Kylie was practically twitching as she sat on the plane as they descended into London. She had gone back to the hotel to grab her belongings before rushing to the airport and nearly biting the head off of the airport worker as she tried to get on the first flight to London, barely making it to the flight and taking the last seat before the gate shut and the plane took off.

The flight took ages, but she couldn't sleep. She was too worried about what had happened. Kylie had called John right before her plane took off letting him know that she was coming, but it had been a quick conversation. He had still been looking for his neighbor's son. Apparently drug-abusing teenagers were a lot more difficult to find than they appeared to be. He told her he had about three more places to look and it would probably take all night to go through them all thoroughly so he would see her when she landed.

She was eager to get off the flight. She didn't do well with sitting still, let alone in a situation that was eating her with worry from the inside out.

Kylie watched the ground of London come closer and closer before the wheels finally touched the ground.

…_home… she was home…_

The plane slowed as she practically dove towards her phone and turned it on, praying that any messages or emails would come in quickly.

Nothing…

She heard the flight attendant on the loudspeaker in the background, but she wasn't listening. She was too busy dialing John's number.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" the young man who had been her seatmate asked her.

She looked at him as she held the phone to her ear. The young man was looking at her with concern. He was blond, his hair parted to one-side as if his mother had combed his hair for him. The glasses on his face and the suit he was wearing made him look like he was overdressed twelve year old.

"You've been severely agitated and anxious this entire flight," He told her kindly, "I am a trained psychologist and would be more than willing to help you with any problems that you are going through."

Kylie just raised an eyebrow at him, "Yeah… you're what? Twelve? I just saying you are a psychologist doesn't make you one. But stay in school."

She looked at her phone and cursed as John didn't pick up. She dialed his number once more, eagerly waiting for the flight attendant to open the door.

"I see you are skeptical," the young man said, "but I assure you, I am 24 years old and just finished up a post doctoral rotation in Argentina, and I am a fully-practicing and experienced psychologist…"

"Still, I'm good. Thank though," Kylie commented quickly as she hung up and dialed Mycroft's number.

…_if anyone knew where Sherlock was, it would be Mycroft…_

"The amount of anxiety you are obviously going through, is worrying. In my experience, talking about the issue can help…"

"Seriously, I'm okay," Kylie told him as Mycroft picked up the line. "Mycroft, thank God!" she said as she leapt up, grabbed her small bags out of the over head carriage and shoved her way through the plane and out the door before the young psychologist could even speak.

"Mycroft, its Kylie," she spat out as she practically ran through the airport, "Look John called me, and Sherlock is missing, and now he's not picking up…"

"I was expecting your call Miss Gibbs," Mycroft's calm voice told her, "I was notified that you purchased a ticket back to London."

"Yeah, creepy as always with the Big Brother thing Mycroft," Kylie said hurriedly as she kept looking for the exit, "Look do you know what is going on?"

"Yes, unfortunately I do," Mycroft told her with distain in his voice, "John has found my younger brother in a… complex state."

"Yeah, what in the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked as she finally made it outside, searching for a cab.

"I guess you weren't aware of my brother's 'danger nights' as we called them."

"Mycroft, I am getting extremely sick of you and your puzzles. Spit it out. I know something is wrong, just tell me what it is."

"My brother was found in a heroin den."

Kylie stopped in her tracks. That didn't make any sense.

"So what? He was working a case," Kylie attempted to dismiss.

Mycroft chuckled bitterly on the other end of the line, "No, I assure you, John had him immediately tested. He was high. He has a past with drugs, and apparently dove back into that world with vigor."

Kylie stopped in her steps.

_Sherlock used…?_

_He was high… on heroin?_

"Miss Gibbs?"

"I got to go," Kylie told him quickly as a cab pulled up to her. She hung up her phone as she fought to breathe. The man she had been falling for all over again.. the man she was confident she was going to start a relationship with… was using drugs.

She felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her.

"You gonna get in or what?" the cabbie asked loudly.

"Yeah, sorry," Kylie told him as she threw her bags in and clambered in.

"Where to?"

"221 Baker Street," she told him as she shut her eyes and tried to face the truth of what just happened.

_He was using… he was a drug addict._

_This brilliant, amazing man… a typical heroin druggie?_

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe it one bit.

She didn't know what to believe anymore, but the one thing that she was certain of, was that she was going to kick his ass when she saw him.

**&*# &(# *(**

John stood in the living room of 221B in utter, complete shock.

Sherlock was using.

Mycroft was being irritating as usual.

And Sherlock was hiding drugs in his bedroom once more.

John barely waited for the bathroom door to close and the bath to start before he took steps towards the bedroom door Sherlock had been hiding something behind.

He had nearly reached it, when the door opened itself. John froze in shock as he saw a woman dressed in just a men's shirt, peek out from behind the door. This wasn't just any woman though… it was one he knew.

"Oh hi there John!" Janine said as she tugged down on the shirt, keeping herself decent, "I heard arguing and I thought everyone had gone."

"J… Janine?" John asked in blatant shock.

"Was it Mike?" she asked as she walked past him into the kitchen.

"Mike?"

"You know, his brother?"

"Mycroft?"

"Yeah, Mike. That's what he calls him," Janine said as she went through the cupboards looking for something, "Where's Sheryl?"

"Sheryl," John sighed trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, where is he?"

"He uh, just went to have a bath…" John told her, "I'm sorry, are you two…?"

"Together?" Janine asked with a smile, "Yeah, just a couple of weeks, you know. He didn't want to tell you because of the whole thing with Karen you know? Sorry about that by the way."

John stared at her, not understanding. Sherlock wanted Kylie. She was coming back soon. Why in the hell was this happening?

John opened his mouth to talk, but before he could, footsteps came pounding up the stairs and the door burst open.

"WHERE IN THE HELL IS HE?" Kylie yelled furiously as she threw her bags down on the ground, staring at a gaping John and completely missing the half-naked Janine in the kitchen making coffee.

John didn't have a chance to answer before she heard splashing in the bathroom and she stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

John just gaped. Kylie was in London?

And Sherlock had a girlfriend… and a drug problem… this… this was not going to end well.

"Who was that?" Janine asked.

John didn't answer, he just sat down and put his head in his hands.

Not good….

**&^#$*&#*( **

Sherlock sighed as he let the warm water soak around his body, rubbing some water over his face, wiping the dirt off. The mixture of the warm water and the end of his high was a blissful mixture. Now he remembered why he had started using all those years ago.

He heard yelling and he opened his eyes just in timed to hear the bathroom door open and slam shut before the curtain was ripped back.

He opened his mouth to comment, but found himself speechless with shock and surprise as he saw a furious Kylie standing there.

…_she wasn't supposed to be here… _

…_she said another month…_

"What in the HELL are you playing at?" she yelled at him through gritted teeth as he still sat in the tub, gaping at her in surprise.

"Kylie…" he said nervously glancing at the door, knowing who was still here.

_She couldn't find out… _

"No, you fucking listen to me Sherlock Holmes. What in the HELL were you thinking? Heroin?! You use heroin now? You are the most brilliant person I know and you are throwing yourself down the drain by using illicit and highly dangerous drugs? WHAT IN THE HELL?!"

"Kylie, I…"

"No, you are going to listen to me right now. You faked your own death, nearly destroyed me, then you call and want to make up and now you go and do this?"

"I didn't have a choice on that!" Sherlock argued in return, unable to keep himself calm anymore.

"A choice to not tell me you were alive? To tell John you were alive? To save us from that hurt? Or not have a choice to put a highly dangerous drug in your veins?"

"I did it FOR YOU!" Sherlock yelled back angrily as he as he began to lose his temper, glaring at her in the eye.

"For me?" she yelled at him bitterly, "How? How was this for me? For John?"

"It just, it IS!"

"OH, and I'm just supposed to take your word for it? Or were you planning on sending my another extremely ambiguous clue to tell me this?" she yelled at him sarcastically.

"It was obvious!"

"NO IT WASN'T!" 

"And that's my fault?" Sherlock yelled back at her as he began sitting up in the tub, "That you were too _stupid_ to figure it out?"

"No, its not my fault that you have communication issues and apparently EVERYONE but John and I knew that you were still alive!"

"I had to, to protect you two!"

"From what? You didn't trust John and I enough to let us know that you were alive, and yet you trusted your goddamn homeless network?"

"It was a very elaborate plan…"

"GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD THAT NEITHER JOHN OR I GIVE A SHIT HOW YOU DID IT!" Kylie yelled at him as pent up anger came pouring out, "We want you back. We wanted the Sherlock we knew back, and now we just have a man who shoots up heroin and is wasting away his brilliant mind with it."

"I DID THIS, ALL OF THIS, FOR YOU!"

"You keep saying that!" Kylie yelled, "Though I still have yet to see how any of this relates back to me. You say you care for me Sherlock, and yet all that I see is you doing selfishly what you want. Jumping off buildings, shooting up…"

Sherlock glared at her angrily before standing up in the tub, looking her dead in the eye, "I jumped to stop Moriarty's men from putting a bullet in John, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson, and to get you out of Thomas's grasps," he told her in a soft, yet dangerous voice, "I had to stay dead until they were all taken out to keep you all safe. I spent the rest of the years hunting down Thomas. I failed, and I am still keeping an ear to the ground trying to find him. So pull your mind out of your 'ass', as you say and trust me when I tell you there is an intention behind everything that I do."

Kylie stared at him, dead in the eye as she breathed heavily. She was so angry. She wanted to punch him right in his goddamn face, but the fact that they were both furious at each other and he was standing, extremely naked in the tub, was making it very difficult for her not to look down, or to breathe.

"Why the drugs?" she asked furiously, "Actually shooting up has no purpose."

"What do you want me to do?!" he asked in frustration.

"The truth!" Kylie yelled back, "I want you to tell me the truth!"

He stared at her fuming.

"And would you like a towel?" she asked angrily through gritted teeth.

He stared at her for another moment before he looked down and realized that he was naked before slinking back down into the tub.

He opened his mouth to talk before the bathroom door opened.

"Is everything okay in here Sheryl?"

Kylie stiffened as she saw Sherlock's eyes widen for half a second. The voice was female.. and one she didn't recognize.

…_Sheryl?_

Kylie slowly turned around to see a pretty brunette woman dressed in only one of Sherlock's shirts.

Kylie just stared at her in blatant shock.

"Who…who are you?" Kylie asked, completely thrown off by the other woman's presence.

"Oh, I'm Janine," the woman said with a smile as she extended her hand towards Kylie, "I'm Sherlock's girlfriend."

Kylie's mouth opened in shock as she felt a knife go through her heart.

…_girlfriend?_

She shut her eyes and tried to wrap her head around what she had just heard.

Sherlock had a girlfriend? While he had been emailing her and trying to get her to come back, all if he already had a girlfriend?

…It had been a rouse…. He hadn't cared about her. He just wanted her back to solve cases…

Sherlock Holmes, the one man she had never expected to play her, had just played her… hard…

"I'm sorry, and you are?" Janine asked.

She looked at the woman before smiling slightly in disbelief and shaking her head as she fought not to cry, "No one, Janine. I'm no one you nor _Sheryl_ will ever see again."

"Wait!" Sherlock said from the tub.

"No goodbye," Kylie said as she walked out the bathroom, letting the tears fall as she shut the door behind the 'couple'.

She tried to hold herself together as she saw John sitting in an armchair, at a complete loss.

"Kylie, I had no idea…"

"Save it," she told him as her voice cracked with emotion and she held up a hand, shaking her head, "Just… just save it John."

As if the universe wanted to twist the knife that was already in her chest, a large splash came from the bathroom as Janine squealed and Sherlock's deep laugh echoed through the bathroom.

Kylie shut her eyes in pain.

"I should have never came back," she muttered as she grabbed her bags and fled out of 221B and down the stairs into her flat.

John watched her go helplessly.

He had no idea what was going on anymore, but all that he knew, was that Sherlock had just royally messed up.

There was no going back from this…

**Okay, so just so everyone is aware, CAM is not going to be in this story. I'm taking another Holmes Villian and weaving it in. I want to do CAM justice since he was so amazingly portrayed and a lot of it may get skipped over if I did...that and the Mary story line isn't quite up and running yet. So, anyhow, it will be all explained next chapter, but just bare with it for right now. **

**Anyhow… **

**Review?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Damn, you guys are amazing… seriously. For realy, thanks so much for all of your amazing feedback!  
**

**A HUGE thanks and a hug to:**

**Drwholock, Gwilwillith, Ammaviel, SirOlives, TheGirlWhoPrefersOlderMen, Spectra Stardust, KiyUzmaki, LoveIsAFairyTale, Kate Elizabeth Black, my Guest reviewers, Silver-Angelic-Lilly, Scarlet Tribe, bored411, notsmaug, Dalonega Noquisi, the-mad-girl-with-a-book, CommanderWilliamsN7, pineapplelover, and xxxMadameMysteryxxx.**

**Seriously, you guys are making it really hard for me not to keep writing and keep procrastinating on the kagillion things I need to get done, so thanks :D**

**Enjoy! Its shorter, but I felt it needed to be slightly broken up. **

Sherlock shut the door behind Janine, fighting not to roll his eyes at her before he turned around to see a livid John Watson glaring at him.

"Janine?" he said angrily, "Really Janine?"

"Yes, that was Janine," Sherlock said simply, "I thought you had gathered that by the conversation we all had together and her inviting you to dinner." 

"Yes, that was my favorite part," John told him furiously, "The part where you are now suddenly completely docile and want to have uncomfortable dinners and eating with sitting, when you were just bitching about it a few weeks ago."

Sherlock just shrugged, "Things change."

"Yeah, just like how you get a girlfriend, right before Kylie is going to come back," John told him.

He saw Sherlock shut his eyes with guilt and shift before he played it off and went stony once more.

"Look, tell me what is going on? Seriously? What are you playing at?" John asked, "You just royally fucked up everything you were going to have with Kylie for Janine….Really… Janine? You had no interest in her a few weeks ago!"

"Are you done?" Sherlock snapped, "Or can I work this case?"

"Yeah, fine. Just know that you just shattered her heart and most likely chased off the best thing that could have happened to you."

Sherlock glared at John.

…_this is precisely why he had avoided John since this whole thing began…_

"Applegate Mansion," Sherlock began to spout off, pulling up the schematics of the building and showing a still pissed off and uninterested John, "the most secure building in all of Britain. Housing some of the biggest cooperation secrets in the world…. Are you listening?"

"No," John said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm too busy worrying about my friend downstairs who just ran over with the feelings truck."

Sherlock frowned at him, "What is that even supposed to mean?"

"That you LITERALLY just threw away something great you could have had with Kylie. For what Sherlock? A thing with a girl you had zero interest in..?"

"My GOD! Will you drop it already?" Sherlock yelled.

"NO! Because you are obviously not understanding about how you just chased Kylie off…"

"BECAUSE JANINE HAS INFORMATION THAT I NEED!" Sherlock yelled as he glared at the computer.

John just gaped at his friend, "Information? She's part of a case, that's all?"

"Yes, of course she's part of a case. Why else would I be _dating _her?" Sherlock scoffed as he turned back to his laptop.

John shut his eyes and put his head in his hands, "That's what all of this is about? A case."

"Not just any case," Sherlock told him, "Julian Henderson."

John frowned and furrowed his eyes at him, "Wait… Julian Henderson? As in the Businessman? The one who owns the multimillion-pound investment company?"

"Yes, him exactly."

"Wait, doesn't Janine work for him?"

Sherlock just looked at him.

"Oh God Sherlock!" John said as he ran a hand over his face, putting it all together, "That's what this is all about? Seriously? To bring down some God forsaken business bloke?"

"His real name isn't Julian Henderson," Sherlock told him, "Its Don Juan Murillo."

John gaped at his friend, "You are telling me, this very successful business man is the Tiger of San Pedro? The Central American Dictator that Kylie has been identifying the victims of in Argentina?"

"Yes, and the same one that is being protected by Thomas Moore and the last piece of the puzzle before I can take him down."

"So wait, he is in Thomas's network?" John asked.

"Yes, and he has been following both Kylie, you, and I for months now. Thomas knows I'm alive and that put you and Kylie in even more danger."

"So, that's why you've been avoiding me?" John asked.

"Yes, that and you could never keep a secret when I needed to convince Janine that the relationship was sincere."

"So… its not?"

"No."

"So the drugs, the relationship…?" John asked, "how in the hell do those correlate back into this?"

"All for this case," Sherlock told him simply.

"HOW?"

"I needed to discredit myself as a viable threat. With using and Murillo's people following me…"

"Leads them to believe that you are just a crazed junkie," John said shutting his eyes and shaking his head, not believing that this entire thing had been a rouse, "What about Janine? How does she factor in She just works for the company, doesn't she?"

"She's Murillo's PA."

John shut his eyes and sighed, kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. He knew she worked for a big shot, but he hadn't realized she was the Personal assistant to a dangerous ex-dictator on the run and being hidden by Thomas.

"She has set up numerous meetings with Moore and Murillo in the last six months, including setting up reservations, hotel, ect. She keeps all this information on the closed server system at the Applegate Mansion. If we can get in there, and get Janine to open the file, we will know Thomas's whereabouts and can finally take him down."

"So, wait," John said shaking his head, "Why are Kylie and I being followed as well?"

"Kylie is Thomas's main target, as well as Murillo, as she is gathering evidence against his regime for the last two years. You, as mine and her best friend, are logically being followed for any information we gave you."

John sighed once more, putting his head in his hands.

"You know, Kylie isn't going to trust you anymore. She was starting to open up, and this…. This isn't good Sherlock."

"Kylie," Sherlock said in a different tone as he looked down, guilt filling him once more, "is a logical person. Once she 'cools' off she'll understand why I had to ask Janine to marry me."

And with that, Sherlock grabbed his jacket and got up, strolling out of the flat once more.

"WHAT?!" John yelled as he got up after him, cursing him under his breath once more.

**& *()( )((!_**

Lestrade sighed as he finished up his latest report, running a hand over his face. He was almost done with the day, but he found himself, slowing down and taking his time with his paper work. Home was lonely since his divorce. The office was his escape; allowing him to feel as if he was still worth something.

Knock Knock knock.

Lestrade looked up as knuckled rapped softly on the door, pushing it open.

He stared in shock as he saw the anthropologist he had been missing dearly fo the last two years. Her hair was tousled and dull, as her eyes were completely bloodshot and slightly swollen.

"Kylie!" Lestrade said with a smile, "My God, its been ages! I wasn't expecting you for another month!"

She gave him a pained smile as she walked in and shut the door.

"Its good to see you Greg," she told him as she walked over and hugged him.

Lestrade pulled back and looked at her, "Why do you look like crap?"

Kylie laughed slightly, "That's exactly what a girl wants to hear."

"I figure you found out Sherlock is alive and well, that bastard," Lestrade asked her as he sat back down in his chair, motioning Kylie to take the one across from it.

"Yeah," she said as looked down at an envelope in her hands, sadly.

Lestrade frowned as he watched her reaction. She looked as if she had been crying for hours and was about to start crying again.

"I um… just got into town," Kylie told him as she wiped a tear off her face, "But as soon as I did, it became apparent that I shouldn't have come back."

Lestrade looked at her curiously, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Kylie said as she wiped her eyes once more, "It wasn't nothing, but I really don't want to talk about it. All that I know, is that working here was the best job that I ever had. You, the Yard… you guys became my family. After what I had been through, I couldn't have asked for a better boss, or friend."

She paused for a moment and shut her eyes before looking back up at him, "I am so unbelievably sorry for leaving when I did. I couldn't handle what had happened. I know that that isn't an excuse for my actions, but I needed to apologize to you."

"Its okay Kylie," Lestrade told her, "We missed you. A lot."

"And that's why I am even more sorry to do this," Kylie said as she began crying once more, setting the envelope on the desk.

Lestrade looked at the envelope warily, "What's that?"

"My letter of resignation," she told him, "This is the best job I have ever had, but… I … I cant be London. I cant be around Sherlock anymore."

Lestrade sighed and shut his eyes before pushing the envelope back to her.

"I'm not taking this," Lestrade told her softly with a smile.

"What? Why? You have to!" Kylie told him.

"No, I don't," Lestrade replied as he leaned back in his chair, "I get it. You are pissed at him. I don't know why, I don't want to know why. I just know that you have a habit of running away from your issues instead of facing them head on. There's a point in life, Kylie, where you will have nowhere left to run. You said it yourself; London was the best thing that happened to you. So, why throw away a good thing?"

"Sherlock…" Kylie began.

"Hurt a lot of people when he jumped off that damned rooftop. It wasn't just you Kylie. You have a right to be mad, we all do. But you need to stop making such rash decisions and running away all the time."

Kylie just looked up at him as a tear ran down her face.

"You are by far the best hire I have ever made, and even a better friend. I'm not willing to let you walk off again because you are pissed at Sherlock. Take a few weeks, even the rest of your sabbatical. Go home, see your father. Don't go back to that godforsaken place of Argentina. Your Dad always seems to give you insight that no one else can. If you feel the same way in a couple weeks, then I'll take your letter of resignation."

Kylie smiled at him and wiped her eyes, getting up and hugging the older DI tightly.

"Thank you Greg," she whispered to him.

"You're welcome," he smiled at her, "Now, do you have time for a drink before I drop you off at the airport?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Kylie smiled at him.

"Come on then," Lestrade said grabbing his coat and offering his arm for her to take, "I have to fill you in on what my bitch wife did since you left."

"Oh, God, please tell me you finally divorced her?" Kylie laughed as she took his arm and they walked towards the pub.

**&# *(*)#( **

Kylie sat on the plane, staring out the window as she tried not to cry anymore. She was so sick of crying. She wasn't a crier, she never had been, but because of Sherlock Holmes, she had cried more than she ever had.

Lestrade was right, she really did need to go home for a bit. It had been a long time since she had seen him. She missed him dearly; she missed her whole little family she had left in Virginia.

It was going to be good to see them after two and a half whole years. She just wished it wasn't because she was running away from Sherlock Holmes once more.

She wiped her eyes once more.

He had led her on. He had come back from the dead, reopening wounds that she had been healing. She had been relieved, happy, sad, furious, all at the same time. She had felt so many things, but that was the thing about Sherlock Holmes; he made her feel _so many_ different things.

When he had called her, trying to make everything up to her… he had been so unbelievably sincere. His emails had been so sweet, despite how innocent and mundane the conversation had been. He had been genuinely excited when she had mentioned that she was counting down the days till she returned to London. He had kept asking about a relationship… it had really seemed as if he had wanted to be in a relationship with her.

And yet, during this time, he had been seeing another woman; one that he had obviously been sleeping with by the state of her clothes and how she had clambered into the bath with him.

Kylie couldn't help but feel the knife twist in her heart a bit more. He hadn't wanted to touch her when they had started seeing each other. He had been a virgin, and essentially tried to talk his way out of it every time. Granted, she had been appreciative of it, but it still hurt. He hadn't wanted her… he never had.

She shut her eyes and let the tears fall.

She was wrecked baggage. Thomas had ensured that. She was a complete fool to believe that someone would have believed otherwise.

She knew she would get through it one day, but right now, the pain was too much to bear. She let herself break down right there on the plane as all the others slept around her, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

**&&*& (*(# &**

Tony DiNozzo sat on the couch, holding the woman who was like a sister to him close as a Netflix movie played out on the laptop on the coffee table. He wasn't even watching the movie, he was too busy plotting the instantaneous and painful death that he would put this guy through for hurting Kylie. He knew it was most likely Gibbs's role, but he had developed such a close relationship with her… she really was his little sister.

He had started working for her father when she was 14. He had gone with Gibbs to her sporting events, spent Friday nights watching movies with her. He had never really had a family of his own, let alone siblings, and Kylie and her father had filled that role.

So it was extremely difficult seeing her so broken. She had refused to tell them what had happened, insisting that she just came back to see them, but after five glasses of scotch and a lot of prying, she had finally told them the entire story of what had happened; with Thomas all those years ago, with Sherlock… the whole story. He had nearly stroked with pure anger when she had drunkenly admitted what Thomas had done to her, twice now. He had wanted nothing more than to leap up and track the son of a bitch down before skinning him alive for what he did to her, but Gibbs gave him that look, telling him to sit down and hear the rest of the story before he took action.

When it came to his daughter, Gibbs was quite different than when he was in the field. He always got the full story before he took any action. He, like DiNozzo, knew Kylie was brilliant. She always had a reason for doing what she did, and she always tried to do the right thing. It was usually best to let her finish her story, especially when she was so drunk and vulnerable.

What Tony was in disbelief about was this Sherlock fellow. Kylie had only raved about him when they had talked, and once Gibbs had met him over Christmas that one year, he had only smirked in response when Tony had inquired about their relationship, telling the younger man to 'Give it time. They'll figure it out eventually'. Even Gibbs, the most overprotective and frightening father figure to ever exist, thought that the young man was infatuated with the auburn haired woman. So what Tony didn't understand, was why on earth the Englishman would have changed so quickly. Kylie was a Gibbs; she picked up on people very quickly… but then again, she missed Thomas… they all missed Thomas.

Kylie drunkenly shifted in her sleep, causing Tony to pull her tighter to him, to ensure that she stayed on the couch.

Just then, the front door to the Gibbs household opened and shut quietly, causing Tony to look towards the door, instinctively reaching for his gun.

"Down boy," Gibbs muttered as he walked into his own home, glancing at his sleeping daughter on the couch before quietly setting down his bag on the table.

"You find anything?" Tony asked quietly as not to wake Kylie.

"No, Thomas is in the wind according to Fornell and the CIA. I have a call into MI6, but those bastards hardly ever respond."

"So what's our move?" Tony asked.

"We track Thomas down," Gibbs responded.

"And this Sherlock fellow? The one I would like to punch a few times," Tony asked.

Gibbs smiled slightly and looked at his daughter, "If I was anywhere close to right about that English fellow, he'll show up here looking for her, sooner than later."

Tony frowned as Gibbs got up and went to the fridge, opening a beer. The Sherlock guy broke his daughter's heart. Essentially led her on, and he was saying that he'll show up looking for her?

It was the Gibbs instinct, and the Gibbs instinct was never, ever wrong.

**Kind of ranty, I know, but it's a set up for everyone's perspective and such. **

**So, as of right now, I think I may keep with season three and not really go into detail about how everything happens with Sherlock and John and Janine and whats going on in London. It will be explained, but Im so sick of rehashing, and I really want to get on to the good stuff I have planned, so essentially what Im saying, is I don't know how the next chapter will turn on, but just roll with it, okay?**

**Anyhow, review? Pretty please?**


	9. Chapter 9

**So I think this is the quickest I have put out chapters in a long time, and I think that shows how largely I am procrastinating and how stressed out I really am. Hahaha. **

**Anyhow, thanks so much to my amazing reviewers, who keep making my day better with feedback!**

**Huge thanks to Cheroine, SpectraStardust, LoveIsAFAiryTale, Drwholock, SirOlives, bored411, KiyUzumaki, Dalonega Noquisi, my guest reviewer, Kate Elizabeth Black, Sparrowlillies, Forever Fanfiction Lover22, CaptianWilliamsN7, and xxxMadameMysteryxxx for their amazing reviews!**

**Long one for you guys! It's a bit feely and ranty… so apologies.**

**Enjoy!**

Kylie awoke the next morning to an extremely large and pounding headache. She groaned loudly and tried to open her eyes, closing them immediately and shoving her head under a pillow to block the sunlight. By the feel, she was in her father's bed. How she ended up there, she had no idea. She barely remembered speaking to Tony and her father. All that she remembered was getting to her fathers house, them talking, her drinking… then it was a blur. She just prayed that she didn't tell them anything that would warrant Sherlock's death.

…not that she cared…

She carefully lifted the pillow up, slowly cracking one eye open finding a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin with a note from her father by the bed. She slowly reached out for it, bringing it closer to read.

_Bug-_

_Drink plenty of water and get some sleep._

_I had to go into work. Tony will be by later to check on you. _

_Stay out of trouble. _

_Love you._

She smiled slightly, only groaning once more as she accidentally knocked over the damned raggity lamp he insisted on keeping, no matter how many times Kylie tried to throw it out.

Her head pounded even more as she reached for the water, slowly drinking it as she tried to will away her hangover before she rolled back over and tried to go back to sleep.

RING RING RING

Kylie groaned as her phone rang loudly.

"No… go away…" she whined as she tried to drown out the sound by shoving her head deeper into the pillow.

RING RING RING

She looked up and glared at her phone, looking at the number flashing on the screen. She barely registered that the unknown number was a UK number before she picked it up, trying to get the ringing to stop.

"Ello?" Kylie muttered, shoving her head back under the pillow to get out of the light.

"Oh, er, hi!" a female voice said, "Is this Kylie Gibbs?"

"Uh, yeah…" Kylie muttered, "Who's this?"

"This is Janine. I believe we met day before last. Except I well, I didn't know who you were… or the whole story as a matter of fact."

Kylie's eyes shot open.

_She had to still be drunk. Why in the hell would Sherlock's girlfriend be calling her?_

"Look, I know this is a bit weird, but I just wanted you to know that what I told the tabloids really wasn't true. It was just my way of getting back at the bastard," Janine told her.

Kylie shut her eyes and shook her head in confusion.

_Why did she drink so much last night?  
_

"I'm sorry, you must have the wrong person," Kylie told her, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"No, I have the right person," Janine told her, "Pretty Auburn haired woman who was speaking to Sherlock in the tub?"

"I must be imagining this call," Kylie muttered.

"You a bit hung over love?" Janine asked.

"Yes, so I apologize for not understanding why Sherlock's damn girlfriend is calling me," Kylie snapped.

"I'm not his girlfriend," Janine told her, "The bastard used me to get to get to my boss. He never had any interest in me."

Kylie shut her eyes and tried to understand.

"I'm sorry, wait what?" Kylie asked.

"Have you turned on the news at all? Or seen the tabloids?" Janine asked.

"No, I got on a flight to the States, got hammered, and can't really remember anything…" she stopped and shook her head, "I'm sorry, why are you calling again?"

"Look, I know this is a bit strange for me to call you, but I stole your number out of Sheryl's phone after the guards tazed him unconscious. Though, I can't say he didn't deserve it completely."

Kylie sat up in a hung over daze, her head spinning as she attempted to turn on her brain.

"I met Sheryl about a month ago. I was supposed to be set up with him by John as Karen had nagged him enough and Sherlyl had just come back from the dead. The man had no interest in me. Just kept going on about you and trying to get you to come back. Practically wet himself when I came on to him. Didn't hear from him for a few weeks, then it was almost as if he had become a completely new person. Right out of a romcom. Everything he said was perfect. I should have seen it then, but I didn't. Today, he showed up at my office with John and proposed to get in…"

Kylie felt an even bigger dagger go through her heart at the word propose. Granted, it didn't sound like him, but still.

"… as soon as he got in, he turned back into the man I met at the bar last night, the one who was only interested in one woman. You."

Kylie frowned and ran a hand through her hair. Why was she telling her this?

"He was only with me to gain entry into my bosses house. Its been all over the news if you don't believe me. But I just wanted to call and let you know that that man is a bastard for what he did to me, but all in all, he's a good man. Wanted to take down the bad guy and protect the girl. I sold a fake story to the tabloids as my way of getting back at him and humiliating him."

Janine paused for a moment, "Sure, I was his 'girlfriend' but he refused to go any further than, I believe you American's call it, 'second base'. I told the tabloids otherwise to get back at him. But I wanted to tell you, woman to woman, that you are a lucky woman."

"Me?"

"Yeah, that night I met him, when he wouldn't shut up about you? He refused to even kiss me. You two weren't together, and from what John told me, you two hadn't even talked. You were half way across the world, and that man was still faithful to you. I was just pawn, a pawn that you happened to walk in on at the wrong time."

Kylie was in complete shock at what she was hearing.

"I'm sorry, why are you telling me this?" Kylie asked.

"Because as big of a bastard as he is, he's a good man. You looked a little more than hurt and you obviously care about him. He definitely cares about you, and as much as I hate him right now, I want him to be happy one day…. That, and if I were you, I would want to know the truth. Lord knows that if Sherlock was the only one who told me this, I wouldn't believe it."

Kylie couldn't help but laugh slightly at the woman's joking nature.

"I didn't realize at the time that you were the Kylie he always talked about, even when he was my supposed 'boyfriend'. But I put it together after I saw how pissed John was. I'm brighter than Sheryl thought I was. Henderson… or well, whatever his real name is… hired me for a reason."

Kylie frowned as she slowly climbed out of bed, wincing as she walked through her childhood home to the television in the basement.

"Any who, I just wanted to clear things up and let you know that I am really, truly out of the picture."

"Janine," Kylie said slowly, "Thank you. I don't know if I would have done the same if I were you."

"From what I have heard about you from Sheryl and John, I know you would have," Janine told her, "Best of luck, Kylie. You really are a lucky woman."

Kylie didn't know how to respond, her slowly functioning brain could barely keep up.

She didn't have time to respond before a dial tone reached her ear.

Kylie looked at her phone, completely bewildered by the strange phone call.

_Why in the hell did she ask if she had seen the news?_

Kylie turned on the TV and sat on her father's stool, flipping through the news channel, where the headline read _Tiger of San Pedro posed as Buisnessman Commits Suicide_.

"Oh my God," Kylie muttered as she turned on the volume, listening to the reporter.

"_Julian Henderson, well known businessman in England, committed suicide outside of his home of Applegate Mansion. It was later exposed by a private party, of whose identities have not been exposed at this time, that Henderson was actually Don Juan Murillo; wanted and hated Central American Dictator responsible for over 7,500 deaths in Argentina during the 1970's…."_

Kylie sat in shock. _Didn't Janine just mention Henderson… as her boss? _

_Oh god, Sherlock "used" her to take down the Tiger of San Pedro?_

Kylie sighed and put her head in her hands.

What in the hell was going on?

Kylie sat in stunned silence before she slowly dialed John's number.

She had to wait only a few seconds before he picked up.

"Kylie! Hey!"

"John. What in the hell is going on in London right now?"

"Oh… yeah… er.. you see the tabloids, or the news?"

"I just saw the news," Kylie told him quickly, "Janine called me and filled me in about the tabloids."

"Wait, what? Janine… called you?"

"Uh, yeah. Told me that Sherlock faked a proposal and a whole relationship with her just so that he could get into Henderson/Murillo's house and bring him down. Then I turn on the news and see he committed suicide?"

"Is that all you saw?" John asked slowly.

"Why? Is there more than that?!"

"…no…." John told her, obviously lying. Even Kylie could tell that and her head was still pounding.

"You are a horrible liar, John. Spill. Now."

"Janine is right. I figured it out right after you left. Sherlock was faking the whole thing. He was guilty after you left. Played the whole thing out, even proposed fakely to Janine, without even a ring to get into Applegate mansion. Henderson… well, he had an eye on you because you were gathering evidence against him in Argentina, and the fact… that well, he was meeting with Thomas on a constant basis."

"Thomas?" Kylie breathed.

"Yeah…" John told her, "That's not the worst part."

"There's a worse part than my crazy ex-boyfriend?"

"Unfortunately," John muttered, debating within himself if he should actually say anything to her.

"What happened?"

"We uh, got to Applegate, broke in, got tazed, woke up and Murillo was there, Janine was long gone. Long story made short, Murillo had a plot to have you killed, and was dumb enough to tell Sherlock and I about it, and how you were going to Thomas once more in trade for Murillo's power in the heroin trade."

"Heroin?" Kylie asked, "Oh god, that's why Sherlock was using…"

"Yeah, it was apparently a whole ploy to get Murillo off his trail and for him to discredit him as an opponent… as stupid as that was…" John explained, "Anyhow, we were cornered, Mycroft had called in the troops and… and that's that."

"The news is saying Murillo committed suicide," Kylie said.

"Yeah, well, he was shot in the head," John said quickly, "The news was told it was a suicide."

"So one of Mycroft's men shot him?" Kylie asked.

John was silent on the other end of the line for a moment, debating if he should tell her the truth.

"Yeah, one of Mycroft's men," John lied gracefully.

Kylie frowned. Her head was pounding and she couldn't tell if he was being honest, but her head hurt too much to deal with it anyway.

"I can't tell if you are lying to me right now, my head is killing me.."

"I know, it's a lot to process right now, Kylie…"

"No, its my damn hangover. Where's Sherlock?" she asked suddenly.

"He's uh… not here at the moment. I think on a plane. He'll be gone for a while again," John told her quickly.

"Gone? What? Why?"

"It's a long story having to do with Mycroft politically…" John lied again.

"What…?" Kylie began before there was a knock on her door.

"Okay, this conversation isn't through, but there is someone at my door, and I think it maybe Tony with some food, so I'll call you later?" Kylie said as she winced as her head pounded with the loud knocking that was continuing up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'll call you later. Take care of yourself and come home soon. Greg told me about your talk."

"I'll be fine John, I always am."

"I know, that's why I worry about you."

"Bye John."

"Bye."

Kylie hung up the phone as she walked up the stairs from the basement to the front door, seeing a dark figure standing on the other side of it.

"Tony, you have a damned key. Use it!" Kylie said loudly, regretting it as the sound echoed around in her brain, making it hurt even more.

The knocking continued, causing Kylie to curse under her breath as she reached the door.

"Tony stop…!" she began as she unlocked the door and opened it, stopping as she looked up, expecting to see Tony standing there, but it was Tony. No, she wished it were, because Sherlock Holmes stood at her door.

He just looked at her for a moment as she gaped at him in shock.

_What…? …He was here? In America?_

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her as he took in her hungover, exhausted, and disheveled appearance.

"You certainly look like hell," he told her calmly.

Kylie's shock appearance disappeared so quickly, Sherlock had to think for a second if she had really even been shocked in the first place. Anger instead covered her face, and before he could react, her fist met his jaw, knocking him flat on the ground, completely unprepared for the hit.

The wind was completely knocked out of him as he hit the concrete steps, groaning and coughing as he tried to regain his breath, staring up at the door from the ground level.

He heard the door slam shut and the lock turn as he sat up, coughing once more.

_Good Lord, that woman hit harder than John did…_

He shut his eyes and tried to shake the hit as he got up, frowning at why the door had been slammed in his face.

Kylie was a logical person; he knew she would understand why he had done what he had done to take Murillo down, but she hadn't even given him a chance to explain himself.

He shook his head once more and rubbed his jaw painfully as he pounded on the door once more.

"KYLIE! PLEASE! LET ME IN! LET ME EXPLAIN!"

"GO TO HELL!" Kylie yelled furiously in return, wincing as she did. She stomped back to her father's bedroom, closing her eyes and praying to God Sherlock and this headache would just go away.

She sat on the bed as she heard the pounding continue distantly.

_Thank God her father didn't have a doorbell_

She took a deep breath and reached for the aspirin, taking a few pills and swallowing them down with water before climbing back into bed and burring her head under the pillows, attempting to drown out the pounding and yelling at the door.

It only took a few minutes before the pounding stopped, allowing Kylie to breathe a sigh of relief. She just wanted the world to go away so she could sleep and not have to wonder what in the hell was going on.

Thoughts kept nagging at her though; why in the hell did Janine call her? Was it really true? The whole thing with Murillo? Why in the hell was Sherlock here? In the States?

_Stop thinking about it Kylie! Just get some sleep and take care of it later. _

Kylie felt her body begin to relax before a strange scratching noise began coming from the window.

She frowned and pulled her head from out of the pillow, just in time to see Sherlock heaving himself through the second story window of her father's bedroom.

"Shit," Kylie growled as she rolled back over and shoved her head into the pillow once more, hoping that if she feigned sleep, he'd just go away.

She heard him straighten, shutting the window behind him as silence took over the room. She felt his eyes on her as she lay as still as possibly, hoping he would just leave.

His footsteps padded across the room before she felt the bed dip down with his weight, as he sat next to her.

"I owe you an explanation," Sherlock told her quietly, "I can see that you are angry with me…"

He couldn't even finish the sentence before the pillow was thrown at his face and the auburn haired woman sat up, staring at him with a fire burning in her eyes.

"You can _see_ that I am angry with you?" Kylie questioned, "Really Sherlock? How about I came running back because John called me and you were missing! I get off a plane and find out you have a drug problem, Sherlock. A DRUG PROBLEM! The damn most brilliant man I have ever met, is STUPID enough to stick heroin into his veins. Then I get to Baker Street and find that you are dating someone. You know, you didn't DAMN WELL have to lead me on and make me think that… that…"

She trailed off and shut her eyes, trying to get the pounding in her head to stop.

"It wasn't real…" Sherlock began before she lashed out once more, slapping him dead in the face.

"You shouldn't have done it," she growled at him angrily, "Janine called me. I don't care that it was a case. I don't care if you say it was _fake_ because I will tell you right now, I have never…"

She stopped herself midsentence. She couldn't tell him how she felt, not after what he put her through, and she wasn't even sure if really cared about her anymore.

Sherlock dropped his head as he saw her reaction.

"It wasn't meant to be like that," Sherlock told her quietly, "You don't know the full story." 

"Then tell it to me," Kylie told him furiously.

"Murillo…"

"Was after me, got it," Kylie told him shortly.

He looked at her with slight surprise and concern.

"Get to the damn point," she told him, "My head is killing me and I have no patience left."

He paused, stopping and trying to choose his words carefully.

"I know that you are still upset that I was gone for those two years," he told her, "I needed to disappear for that time in order to help track Thomas down and end Moriarty's circle. Murillo was that last piece and my last hope to getting Thomas for good…"

"Why in the hell does that even matter to you?" Kylie asked furiously, "So what he has connections to Thomas? That still doesn't explain why you lead me on and now have Janine calling me to cover it all up!"

"DAMMIT KYLIE!" Sherlock yelled losing his temper, "Are you really that thick? I have been trying to track Thomas down for the last two years. All of this, Janine, Murillo's PA, the only one with the location and meeting times with Thomas, the heroin, only to make Murillo, whom was tailing me, discredit me as a junkie and not an actual threat so he wouldn't kill me on site. It was an entirely elaborate plan, all around the fact to keep you safe! None of it was real! You weren't supposed to be there! John wasn't supposed to find out. All I wanted to do was find Thomas and put a damn bullet in his skull for the unspeakable things he did to you. He was after you again, and I wasn't going to let him have you! I meant every damn thing I told you!"

Kylie stopped, staring at the ranting Sherlock, completely stunned.

"You said you want the truth, Kylie? Hmm?" he continued furiously, "The truth is I don't understand _feelings_ or _relationships_. I never thought they were real; just a horrible handicap of norepinephrine and Serotonin. But you…"

He cut himself off, not able to complete the sentence as he wasn't even sure where it was coming from. He didn't think that, did he?

He stared at the bedspread angry at himself for even opening his mouth before a soft hand touched his face.

He looked up in shock to see Kylie staring at him with tears and a softness in her eyes.

"You… you did all of this, to… protect me? From Thomas?" she asked slowly and quietly.

He just looked at her, praying the fear that he was feeling wasn't written all over his face.

A small smile cracked over her face as she shook her head at him, tears starting to fall down her face, "You idiot."

He frowned at her, completely lost by the turn this conversation had taken.

She looked back up at him as her thumb grazed his cheek, causing a warm-fluttering to fill his chest.

"Yes," she told him.

"Sorry?" he frowned.

"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she told him quietly, "that is, if you really meant it when you asked me."

He stared at her in shock for a moment.

_Really?_

She looked at him with wide-eyes and hurt as she dropped her hand, looking away.

"Obviously you didn't…" she began to say before Sherlock cut her off as quickly as he could, not even realizing it himself.

"No, I did," he told her quickly, grabbing her hand, and causing her to look back up at him in surprise.

It was his turn to drop his gaze, as he ran a thumb over her fingers, trying to relish the feeling of her soft skin once more; a feeling he had been dreaming about for the last two years.

"Then, yes," she told him quietly as she turned her hand in his, interlacing her fingers between his.

He swallowed. The warmth and fluttering was overwhelming. His heart was nearly pounding out of his chest. He didn't know what to do, how to act, what to say…

Sherlock looked up to see her large blue eyes staring at him. He couldn't help but to reach up and wipe a stray tear off her face, noticing that he was being drawn closer and closer to her. She was pulling him towards her, not physically, but like a magnet attracting a piece of metal.

He barely had time to register the fascination with the idea before his eyes shut and his lips met hers, softly. A strange combination of warmth and electricity exploded in his chest as he cupped her face and pulled her towards him, sharing a slow, yet tender kiss.

It had been two years since he had touched this woman, and despite his fake relationship with Janine, nothing… not heroin, not another woman could even come close to this feeling.

Her hands tangled themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck as she retuned the kiss before it slowed to a stop.

They both lingered, not wanting it to be over, not wanting the feeling to stop.

Kylie pulled away, looking at him before burring her head in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly.

"This still doesn't mean I'm not royally pissed at you still," she whispered to him.

"I know," he told her as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

She didn't know how long they stayed there for, wrapped in each other and savoring the feeling, until Sherlock broke the silence.

"Why do you reek of scotch?"

Kylie couldn't take it anymore, she started laughing, despite her hang over protesting. The day was too much, and yet this damn man could make her laugh by stating the obvious.

"I need a shower," she muttered as she tried to stop laughing, pulling her head out of the crook of his neck, "And a lot of aspirin, and a nap."

He frowned at her as she began to untangle herself from him.

"Are you hung over?" he asked.

"Good job detective," she said sarcastically as she leaned in a kissed him once more before she walked into the bathroom, starting the shower and shutting the door behind her.

Sherlock sat on the bed, staring at the closed bathroom door, feeling an idiotic grin overtake his face at the feelings this woman brought on.

He wanted to smack himself, but right now, he lacked the sensibility to do so.

**&*# &(* ( *()**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked into his house later that evening, cursing the fact that he hadn't had a chance to come check on his own daughter yet today. The case had been a complex one and he and his team had been extremely busy trying to track a bomb before it exploded. Impending terrorist attacks usually usurped parental duties.

He looked around the house for any sign of her. It was nearly seven at night, she couldn't still be asleep…

He walked upstairs, seeing his bedroom door was cracked. He gently pushed the door open seeing his daughter fast asleep, wrapped in the arms of the man she had been crying over the night prior.

Sherlock Holmes looked up at the older man as he was running his fingers through his daughter's hair as she slept on his chest, freezing as he did so.

Gibbs saw the younger man pale ever-so-slightly as he stared at him.

"You," Gibbs said quietly to the Englishman, trying not to wake his hung over daughter, "With me. Now."

**:D**

**Review?**


	10. Chapter 10

**You guys are amazing! I wasn't going to write at all today because I actually needed to write the four papers I have to write, but I got so much feedback, You guys gave me no choice! You guys are seriously the best! Thanks so much to all of my amazing reviewers!  
**

**A Huge thanks to: scarlet tribe, gwilwillith, TheGirlwhoprefersoldermen, spectra Stardust, katmadwoman77, kiyuzumaki, pinapplelover, .okumura, MiKaBlackPoynter, Sibre Lilac, Guest, LoveIsAFairyTale, SlyYork1991, littlebirdd, Kate Elizabeth Black, themightypanda, , Dalonega Noquisi, bored411, CookieSpells4, CaptianWilliamsN7, xxxMadameMysteryxxx, Silver-angelic-lilly, fanfiction lover 22, and SparrowLillies for their amazing reviews!**

**Short one, but enjoy!**

"You," Gibbs said quietly, trying to not wake his sleeping daughter, "With me. Now."

The Englishmen just stared at him for a moment before carefully untangling himself from a sleeping Kylie, trying not to wake her. She muttered in her sleep before settling back down into the pillow.

Sherlock covered her up quickly with his jacket, making sure she was still sound asleep and comfortable before he followed the older man down the stairs to the main level.

Sherlock stopped and paused, frowning as Gibbs continued to walk through the kitchen, opening the basement door.

"Come on," he said as he held the basement door open for the younger man.

Sherlock paused for a moment before walking through the door and down the staircase to the basement.

He paused and looked around the spacious basement, currently filled with a giant wooden boat being built in the middle of it; hand tools were scattered over the workbench.

Gibbs walked past him and over to the work bench, where he dumped two jars full of screws onto the work bench, plucking the half empty bottle of bourbon off the top shelf, pouring some into both of the jars.

"Have a seat," Gibbs told him as he handed Sherlock a jar before he crossed in front, sitting on the support beam of the boat.

Sherlock just stood there, staring at the older man, unsure of what was going on.

"Sit," Gibbs told him once more.

"I don't appreciate being told what to do," Sherlock told him as he continued to stand.

"Consider it an invitation then."

"And if I decline?"

"Then you'll just stand there, wont you?" Gibbs told him calmly as he took a sip of his bourbon.

Sherlock shifted awkwardly, "Is there a point to this?"

"I thought we had an understanding," Gibbs told him in a calm, yet dangerous voice.

Sherlock frowned, not following, "Kylie obviously got her intelligence from her mother, didn't she…"

"About my daughter," Gibbs continued, ignoring the younger man's prior comment.

"Which was…?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"That you weren't to hurt her," Gibbs told him, "That if you did, there would be a price to pay."

"I believe that this is something between Kyleigha and myself…"

"No," Gibbs said, laughing slightly, "No, its not."

Sherlock shut his mouth and frowned at the older man.

"You see, when I picked my little girl up from the airport yesterday, I hadn't seen her in two years. You see, someone hurt her enough to make her run to the middle of Argentina for two years and refusing to accept reality."

"Thomas hurt her in more ways than one," Sherlock told him plainly as he took a sip of his bourbon.

Gibbs stared at him before looking up at the ceiling and smiling before leaning back on the boat and looking at him.

"You know, for the genius Kylie tells me you are, you really are pretty stupid," Gibbs told him.

"Excuse me?"

"You," Gibbs told him, "I'm referring to you."

Sherlock frowned, still not following him.

"She ran to the middle of the Argentinian jungle in denile that a man she cared deeply for jumped off a hospital building and killed himself," Gibbs told him.

"She…told you?"

"No, I figured it out," Gibbs told him flatly, "She didn't tell me anything until I picked her up, broken and crying from the airport and she told me that the man she had been grieving over for the last two years, showed up out of no where, convinced her that he cared for her, began using drugs, and got another girlfriend."

Sherlock just looked at him for a moment. He hadn't expected Kylie to tell him exactly what had happened.

"Yeah," Gibbs said as he gave him a self-satisfied smile, "That's exactly what I thought."

"Kylie is an extremely logical person. I had extremely good reasoning for my actions, and she has forgiven me," Sherlock told him simply.

"I know my daughter. I know she is rational. I also know she has a habit of running away from her problems, and that in order for her to be asleep with you, not to mention the large bruise you have on your cheek, I can only assume she heard you out," Gibbs told him, "_But_ I also know that she was a bigger mess for the last two years with out you, and thinking you were dead, than she was after what that son of a bitch Thomas did to her."

Sherlock looked up at him with a slight shock. Kylie had always told him that her father had no idea that she had been raped.

"Yeah," Gibbs told him with a smile, "I know what he did to her. And don't think he's not about to get what's coming to him once I can find him. But when I picked her up at the airport, I have never seen my little girl that distraught over anything. Nor nearly drink herself into a coma. That, is what you did to her."

"I told you not to hurt her," Gibbs continued, "Your actions make me think that you weren't listening during our last chat."

"She understands why I did what I did," Sherlock told him.

"Which is?"

"I don't believe I owe you an explanation."

Gibbs chuckled causing Sherlock to become even more angry and frustrated with the situation.

"You really never have been in a relationship, have you?" Gibbs grinned at him.

"I don't think that has anything to do with this conversation," Sherlock snapped.

"Men usually try to impress the woman's father," Gibbs said as he took another sip of his bourbon.

"I don't try to impress anyone," Sherlock told him, "Just because you are the father of my girlfriend doesn't make you any different."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the younger man, "Girlfriend? You two are actually together now?"

Sherlock sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

"I'll take that as a yes," Gibbs grinned.

"Is there a point to this?" Sherlock snapped.

"Yes," Gibbs told him flatly, leaning forward, "I want to know why you hurt my daughter, and why I shouldn't gut you right here in my basement."

"Shame you aren't that frightening," Sherlock retorted.

Gibbs laughed once more, "You know, you unfortunately remind me a lot of myself."

Sherlock just looked at him.

"I did what I did to protect her," Sherlock finally told him, "Murillo was working with Thomas and they were closing in. The woman and the drugs were part of an elaborate plan to track Thomas down…"

"Murillo?" Gibbs asked as he leaned back once more, "You and that doctor fellow were the civilians to bring him down? I should have guessed."

"It didn't lead to anything, Thomas is in the wind once more," he said bitterly.

"Does my daughter know that you shot him in the head and are essentially exiled?" Gibbs asked, "or was that the doctor?"

Sherlock froze. No one knew that. How in the hell did he know that?

"Yeah, I know about that," Gibbs told him, "I read the report."

"How…?"

"Not important," Gibbs said cutting him off, "But why cold-blooded murder?"

Sherlock stared at him, dropping his gaze to his drink.

"Murillo was a well connected man," Sherlock told him slowly, "He was Moore's right hand man. Him going to prison was only going to expand his network and endanger Kylie even more. He wasn't going to stop."

Gibbs just stared at him.

"You killed him, to stop him and Thomas from getting ahold of my daughter?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"Yes, that's what I just said, didn't I?"

Silence.

"You still have a drug problem?"

"No, like I said, part of a plan."

"Doesn't mean that you aren't partial to addiction."

"My intellect allows me to be above that," Sherlock countered.

"Of course it does," Gibbs said with a partial smile before they fell into silence once more.

The older man was staring at the Englishmen, causing him to squirm slightly under his stare.

"What?" Sherlock snapped finally after a moment.

"I like you Sherlock. I really do," Gibbs told him as he finished his drink and set it on the boat, "You heard that saying, 'three strikes, you are out'?"

"American baseball, of course."

"Good," Gibbs said as he stood up, "Strike one, you jumping and leaving my daughter thinking you were dead for two years. Strike two, you breaking her heart and leading her on to find you with a drug addiction and a girlfriend, despite your intentions to bring Thomas down. Strike three…" Gibbs said trailing off as he got up, "And you are out."

And with that, Gibbs began to walk up the stairs and back up into the house.

"Which means?" Sherlock yelled at him.

"Don't hurt my daughter again and you wont have to worry about it," Gibbs yelled back down the stairs.

Sherlock looked back down at his drink in confusion before finishing it off, unsure of the implications that the prior conversation just had.

He finished his drink and set the jar down on the table, looking around the basement and frowned to himself.

If Kylie's father was building a boat in the basement, how in the hell did he get the finished boat out of the basement?

***#( *)( (#)**

Kylie awoke the next morning in her father's bed, wincing at the sunlight pouring through the bedroom window.

She stretched languidly before rolling over to find a sleeping Sherlock in the bed next to her.

She fought not to laugh as she saw him on the absolute edge of the bed, as if he was afraid to touch her.

Kylie smiled as she reached out and ran a hand up his chest as she kissed his cheek.

He muttered something incomprehensible before he shifted, rolling on his side and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her tight to him in his sleep.

She laughed quietly as she tucked her head under his chin and allowed him to intertwine his legs with hers.

For the last two years, she never, ever thought she would be in the embrace of this man ever again, and yet… here she was.

She was still angry with him, but waking up with him next to her and the way her heart was about to explode with warmth in her chest was telling her that anger wasn't going to last much longer.

She snuggled into his chest as he remained in a deep sleep. She knew she had overslept already, but the last thing she wanted to do right now, was get out of this bed.

Her stomach growled as the smell of coffee and bacon filled the air around her, telling her she needed to get out of bed and eat, not to mention head her father off Sherlock before he murdered him.

Slowly and carefully she untangled herself from him. Sherlock turned and tried to pull her back towards him. She laughed once more before she was finally able to slip out of his grasp, throwing on her old sweatshirt once more before she slipped out of the room.

She walked down to the kitchen where she found her father frying up some bacon in a pan, while drinking his coffee.

"Morning Dad," Kylie said as she walked over, kissing her father's cheek, "You know you should have let me sleep on the couch," she commented as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Would have been a little rough with the two of you," Gibbs commented as he put toast into the toaster, not even looking up at his daughter.

Kylie looked up at him with wide eyes, nearly dropping her coffee cup.

Her father looked at her out of the corner of his eye, smirking at her reaction, "We have an understanding."

"The word, 'understanding' coming from you, is what frightens me," Kylie told him as she stole a piece of bacon, looking at the food her father was preparing, "You know fruit and whole grains are food groups as well, right? Not just bacon and steak?"

"Shut up and eat Bug," her father said as he handed her a plate.

"Did you threaten him?" Kylie asked as she grabbed a fork, "I'm shocked he's still here."

"I mean he is your _boyfriend_," her father joked with her.

Kylie nearly choked on her eggs, "He told you that?"

"More like, it slipped," Gibbs joked.

Kylie smiled down into her eggs.

_Her boyfriend…._

"You two really make up?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," Kylie said as she nodded, picking at her eggs, "We did. I cant be mad at him forever… unfortunately."

"That why he has a large bruise on his cheek?" Gibbs smiled.

"Yeah, I was a bit pissed," Kylie replied sheepishly.

"I taught you well," Gibbs told her as he sat down next to her.

His phone went off, and he flipped it open, holding it at an arms distance to read the text message.

"Really Dad, get glasses."

"Ducky wants your opinion on a body, smart ass," he smiled at her.

"What kind of body?" Kylie asked.

"A skeletal one."

She gave her father a look.

"Bring that boyfriend of yours," Gibbs told her as he finished his toast and kissed her forehead, "I gotta go in."

Kylie froze and looked at her Dad, "You want Sherlock working the case?"

"Yeah, why not. You said the guy is a genius. Another opinion cant hurt. That and Tony and Ducky will kill you if they don't meet him."

"You want Sherlock to meet Tony, the most over-protective older brother? And Ziva… and Abby….?"

"Yep."

"You want my sociopathic boyfriend to help on a case with Ziva who will most likely kill him on the spot, Tony will go over protective big brother and act like an immature idiot, and Abby will go ape because I will guarantee he will mess with her lab."

"Yeah, but it wont come to that," Gibbs told her with a smile as he walked out of the room, grabbing his pack, "See you in a bit!"

Kylie just kept staring the wall in shock.

Sherlock working a case with her father, Tony, Ziva, Tim, Ducky, and Abby?

….yeah… this wasn't going to go well…

**:D **

**Review? Please?**


	11. Chapter 11

**You guys are simply amazing! For real! I have procrastinated once more to get this chapter up for you! I love you all for your feedback! You have no idea! Thank you so much!  
**

**Here's another one for you! Enjoy!**

Doctor Donald Mallard took a breath and put on his latex gloves, taking a look at his newest visitor to the NCIS morgue. The poor woman hadn't been identified yet, as the body had been completely burnt in a house fire. The owners of the base-house had all been accounted for and the team was at a loss for an identity.

Doctor Mallard surveyed his visitor. The remains had been burnt to a crisp; so badly, he could barely make out the defensive wounds of the woman. He was good with skeletal remains, he had seen many in his day, but with Kylie in town, and her needing a distraction, he thought he would call in the young woman to assist.

"You really do deserve better my dear," Ducky told his visitor, "I see more hurt on this table than I care to. It's starting to become more and more like a Greek Tragedy."

He sighed and picked up his scalpel, taking a sample for Abby, "Did you know that legend has it that in 456 B.C, a vulture mistook a man's bald head for his prey, and dropped a large stone on it. Killed him instantly."

He put the sample in a jar as he looked back down at his visitor, "Yes, he became known as…"

"The father of Greek Tragedy," a woman's voice finished as someone strolled into the lab.

Ducky turned to see none other than Kyleigha Gibbs, smirking at him as she stood next to a tall, thin, dark-haired man.

Ducky felt a smile spread over his face as he saw the young woman for the first time in years.

"Kyleigha," he smiled as he removed his gloves, walking over to hug the young woman.

"You still talking to the bodies Uncle Duck?" Kylie asked as she hugged the older doctor tightly, "You really need to get an assistant."

"Young Mr. Palmer is on vacation," Ducky told her as he pulled away taking a good look at the young woman, "It is so good to see you Kyleigha dear. I was a bit worried about you off in that Argentinian jungle."

Kylie smiled at the older man, "I was fine out there Uncle Duck. But thanks, I missed you too."

Ducky glanced over at the man standing next to Kylie, smiling at him knowingly.

"Ah, you must be Sherlock Holmes then?" Ducky asked, extending his hand, "Jethro said to be expecting you."

Sherlock stared at the older Doctor for a moment before awkwardly shaking his hand with a fake smile on his face.

"You already saw my Dad?" Kylie inquired as she put on gloves and walked over to the body, beginning her examination, "We weren't too far behind him."

"No, he told me to expect him to show up when you arrived the day before last," Ducky told her casually.

Sherlock frowned in confusion, as Kylie looked up with a similar expression on her face.

"He hadn't even seen me yet. He didn't even know what had happened yet!" Kylie argued.

"Call it father's intuition," Ducky told her as he turned back to the younger man in the room.

"I'm Doctor Donald Mallard, by the way," Ducky continued to Sherlock, "Everyone calls me Ducky though. It was a childhood nickname I'm afraid. It just always stuck."

Sherlock just looked at Kylie with wide eyes, wondering why on earth the older man was telling him this.

"You are British by birth, I hear," Ducky continued as he walked over and began assisting Kylie, "I myself, am a proud Scotsman. Graduated from Edinburgh…"

"Ducky what have you found so far?" Kylie inquired seeing Sherlock opening his mouth to comment in annoyance and cut him off before he could get it out.

"Oh," Ducky said as he looked over and walked over to assist the younger Gibbs, "Not much other than this poor woman was found in a base-house. No leads on her identity and a few scattered defensive wounds."

"You check the owners of the house?" Sherlock asked as he approached the body, peering at it with them.

"No Sherlock," Kylie commented dryly, "The people I call family are that big of idiots that they didn't even think to check that the dead woman in the house didn't actually live there."

Sherlock stood up and gave his girlfriend a look, as she peered up at him with light amusement in her eyes.

Kylie smiled and looked back down at the body, "Well, she's female, mid thirties. Caucasian. Had a job that required her to be on her knees by the crushing of the cartilage on the back of her patellae. Wore high heels almost constantly from the wear of the calcaneus caused by chronic plantar fasciitis and the reshaping of the spine."

"Heels don't effect the spine, Kylie," Sherlock told her.

"Obviously, you've never worn them," Kylie laughed, "Puts your weigh forward into the toe, causing an odd angle for the ankles, knees, and hips attempting to compensate. Over time, if this becomes habitual and muscle structure changes, it can lead to changes in the spinal shape as well."

Just as the words were leaving her mouth, the morgue doors opened and a younger man in a suit strolled in.

"Our girl was a working girl," he said as he held up the file, stopping and smiling once he laid eyes on Kylie, "Abby just got DNA back and she was in the system…" He trailed off as his eyes shot over to Sherlock, his smile fading.

"Hi Tony," Kylie said as she glanced down at the body and removed her gloves, looking back at Ducky, "If you guys hadn't tried DNA yet, why'd you call me in?"

"DNA was a long shot," Ducky smiled at her, "Plus, I miss having you around in my lab."

Kylie laughed and smiled at the older man, causing Sherlock to sigh loudly and roll his eyes, earning a look from his girlfriend.

"That, and I want your opinion on these wounds," Ducky continued, motioning down to the body.

"You just want to keep me around to keep an eye on me," Kylie told Ducky with a raised eyebrow, "My Dad put you up to this?"

"How about we all care about you," the man in the suit chimed in, never taking his eyes off of Sherlock, "Isn't that what family does, Ky? You know people who care about you? Not running off and faking their deaths?"

"Tony," Kylie said warningly as she noticed Sherlock's eyes turn to the man she considered her brother, "Down boy."

Kylie sighed as she saw Sherlock's eyes lock with Tony's.

…_.not good…._

"You her boyfriend then?" Tony asked Sherlock, completely ignoring Kylie.

"Tony, lay off," Kylie told him sternly as she walked towards him.

"I'm sure Gibbs already had this conversation with you, but if you hurt her again, you'll have more than just him to answer to."

"Tony, I am right here!" Kylie exclaimed.

"We are family, if you burn one of us," Tony continued, "You deal with all of our wrath."

Sherlock stared at him with a blank expression, obviously not frightened or impressed with the man.

"I said lay off Tony," Kylie whispered in his ear on the opposite side he had been expecting her from, causing him to jump about three feet in the air as Kylie laughed quietly to herself before Tony clutched his chest and backed up.

"You really did get the sneakiness gene from your dad didn't you?" Tony said as he was trying to catch his breath. "Wow, you really scared me. I've got heart palpitations, someone call 9-1 and wait to dial the last one until I tell you. Actually you have to dial 9 to get out of the building, so someone dial 9-9-1 and wait for the last one."

"The fact that you can talk suggests that you are perfectly fine and being far to overdramatic, which I suppose is why you like this job. You are able to act like a complete and utter child, only to have others in your so-called 'family' clean up after you. You talk big, but there's no way you would ever do it am I right?" Sherlock asked Tony before smirking and walking out of the morgue.

Tony looked at him stunned, still clutching his chest, utterly speechless. Kylie just rolled her eyes at Sherlock while gathering up her belongings.

Kylie turned to look at the two men, "Right, I'm just going to make sure he diesnt cause any more trouble. I'll be back to look at the wounds Uncle Duck. "

"Seriously, you are dating him?" Tony asked.

"I told you to lay off of him," she told him shrugging as she walked towards the morgue doors, "He can be kind of a dick sometimes."

"Kind of?" Tony yelled in exasperation as Kylie gave him one last smile and left the morgue.

Tony then turned to Ducky, "Why can't any of her boyfriends be intimidated by me Ducky? I just want to scare one of them."

Ducky laughed to himself, "Kyleigha isn't one to date weak-minded men Anthony, plus by the time they have met you, they've already met Jethro."

"I've met a lot of girl's father's Ducky, and if I met Gibbs, I would most likely dump her out of pure fear of Gibb's wrath."

"Unlike you Tony, that young man has respect for the young woman's mind, not just her body."

***&#( *#() **

"You know Tony means well right?" Kylie asked Sherlock as they made their way back up to the bullpen.

Sherlock just scoffed at her as they stepped into the elevator.

Kylie stared at him as the doors to the elevator closed and they began the assent to the bullpen.

"These people are my family you know," Kylie stated simply, as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"What that child is like your older brother? Or the crazy man who rambles and talks to dead people?" Sherlock scoffed at her.

Kylie leaned forward and turned off the power to the elevator, stopping it in its tracks.

She then faced Sherlock, "Those people, are my family. You don't get to pick our family Sherlock Holmes and yes, they have quirks. But think about it, Ducky is able to relate to the victims by talking to them. Sure, they are dead, but they still are human beings. That's what makes Ducky such a great coroner. He cares about the victims. And Tony? Yeah he acts like a child sometimes, but you know what Sherlock, he's a damn good cop and a damn good man. You should be the last one to judge on childish behavior."

Kylie calmly looked him in the eyes and Sherlock stared back for a moment before stubbornly saying, "Yes, but I'm not an idiot."

Kylie rolled her eyes and turned the elevator back on, "Yeah and that's why you and your brother barely speak and pay people to spy on each other. Because that's what smart people do."

Sherlock stared at her in confusion as the elevator doors opened and Kylie walked out before he could even open his mouth to ask.

She began walking to her father's desk where he, Ziva, and McGee were all crowded around all looking at pictures of skeletal remains that lay in the middle of what appeared to be a burnt bed in the middle of a burnt home.

Kylie stopped and paused to look at the pictures, immediately recognizing the burnt body as the one they saw on Ducky's slab in the morgue. Sherlock must have realized a similar thing as he stopped and stood right next to her.

"Abby identified the victim as Susan Wiley," McGee reported as a mug shot of a pretty blond woman appeared on the screen next to the burnt body. The anthropologist in Kylie began matching the woman's facial and skeletal features to that of the burnt body, making a positive ID.

"Arrested four times for prostitution in both London and DC. Moved here about two years ago and has been under the employment of Hanson and Becker Entertainment group. Apparently she calls herself an actress," McGee continued.

"Financials check out. Telling us nothing but that she owned a condo in Georgetown, barely spent any money on food, and was most likely a high end escort," Ziva finished.

"Any link to the home owners?" Gibbs asked.

"None that we have found so far," McGee told his boss, causing him to turn and look at him questioningly.

"But we will continue searching," McGee said quickly as he and Ziva took their places back behind their desks, both stopping as they finally noticed the two guests.

"Kylie!" Ziva smiled as she walked over and hugged the woman tightly.

"Ziva, how are you?"

"Better yet, we should be asking you that question," McGee said as he walked over and hugged the woman as well.

"And I should smack Tony for having a big mouth," Kylie replied as she glanced back up at the screen, "Tell me though, was there any other damage from the fire to the body? Anything like a beam falling on it? Roof falling in?"

"No, amazingly enough the roof essentially sluffed off as opposed to it caving in. FBI Arson guys told us it was extremely rare, but possible."

"Huh?" Kylie said as she took a step closer, gazing at the screen.

"What do you see, bug?" her father asked.

"The wounds she has are atypical," Sherlock said as he stepped forward next to Kylie.

Ziva raised an eyebrow at the man and his condescending tone.

"And you are…?"

"Sherlock Holmes," Kylie inputted for him as she took a closer look at the remains, squinting at the screen.

"Kylie's new boyfriend," Gibbs added with a smirk, earning an eye roll from Sherlock and a glare from his daughter.

"These wounds…" Kylie muttered as she turned back and looked at the screen, "They are strange… but I've seen them before…"

"In what?" McGee asked.

"Her dissertation," Sherlock muttered as he looked at the photo.

Kylie frowned at the screen and slowly turned to look at him questioningly, her father giving him a similar look, except with a smirk on his face.

Sherlock felt eyes on him and he straightened, looking at the father-daughter pair and the questioning looks of the two others who were still in the room.

He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly, "That is what you were referring to, wasn't it?"

"You read my dissertation?" Kylie asked smiling at him.

"Its public file," Sherlock muttered as a blush creeped up the back of his neck, "I needed it for a case."

Kylie stepped back and crossed her arms, "Its in the library at Georgetown, and you needed research on the skeletal wounds and evidence of Jack the Ripper victims?"

Sherlock avoided her eye, as he kept looking at the screen.

"It…doesn't matter. Everyone in this room has probably read it."

"No," Kylie said as she turned completely towards him, enjoying his embarrassment, "My own father didn't even read it. Let alone Ziva or McGee."

"The injuries Romeo and Juliet?" Gibbs said with a smirk.

Kylie turned and gave her father a look.

"They are remarkably consistent with the Jack the Ripper killings… like extremely similar," Kylie said as she turned her attention back to the screen, "The skull was bashed in, but…. Oh God…"

"What?" McGee asked.

"The skull was bashed in before the cuts in the neck and abdomen were made, " Sherlock said as he looked over at Kylie, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Kylie looked at him with a smile, slightly taken aback.

"I'm impressed Mr. Holmes," she smiled at him.

Sherlock just kept looking at her as a small grin began to spread out over his face. They stood like that for a moment or two as they were locked in a gaze.

SMACK.

They both jumped as Gibbs dropped a large file on his desk, brushing past them.

"So looking for a guy who gets off on recreating a serial killer case for the 1800's," Gibbs said simply.

"Let Ducky know," her father said as he grabbed his bag, McGee and Ziva right behind him.

"Oookay…" Kylie muttered as she watched her father leave in slight confusion.

"Where are they going?" Sherlock asked as he watched them leave as well.

"No idea," Kylie sighed, running a hand through her hair, "But welcome to working with my father."

Sherlock frowned and looked longingly towards the elevator they had just walked into.

"We cant work the case," Kylie told him as she laid a hand on his arm, "You aren't a citizen and I no longer have an association with NCIS and the FBI."

"Your father doesn't count as an association?" Sherlock argued.

"Not in the eyes of the law," Kylie chided as she began walking towards the morgue once more.

"The law is blind," Sherlock muttered disgruntledly.

"A lot of criminals in jail say that as well," Kylie laughed as she pressed the button for the elevator.

***&* (*#() )**

"You know you didn't need to be a complete dick to everyone I care about?" Kylie said as she walked into her father's house with Sherlock close behind her.

"I still don't understand why we are here. We could be working the case Kylie!"

Kylie rounded on him, "trust me Sherlock, if I had let you stay there for a second longer you would have managed to piss off Ziva and you would have been dead before you could say the word 'case', not to mention Abby most likely would have slipped you something and Tony most likely would have thrown a punch or two at you."

Sherlock just stared at her for a moment.

"But why'd we stop working the case?"

Kylie nearly screamed in frustration. They had practically been kicked out of NCIS as Sherlock had nearly made the always bubbly and optimistic Abby rip his eyes out after he insulted her intelligence and sexual nature, not to mention managed to piss Ziva off as well. They had been thrown out of NCIS before they could help with the case even more for their own safety as well as preventing NCIS employees for being arrested for murder.

Kylie threw her hands up in frustration, "Really? Sherlock, I care about you and all, but my GOD you are impossible,"

Sherlock sat down on the couch and waited for Kylie's ranting to begin once more, desperately wishing he would have swiped crime scene photos to stare at while Kylie paced the kitchen.

"Seriously Sherlock, what the hell? Why cant you behave yourself for five damn minutes, and at least act respectful to the other people I care about?"

Sherlock didn't respond, just was staring off into the distance.

Kylie sighed, "You're not even listening to a single thing that comes out of my mouth, are you?"

Not receiving a response Kylie stared at him and sighed, trying to keep in her anger, and failing. She couldn't deal with this… not right now.

She sighed loudly and promptly walked into her father's room to change into running clothes. She was frustrated. Her entire world had been turned upside down in the last 72 hours. She had been happy and hopeful in Argentina, only to be crushed, angry, and now happy and frustrated. But, she guessed that came with the territory of dating Sherlock Holmes she guessed.

Kylie finished changing and made her way to walk out the door, but when she put her hand on the door handle, she heard Sherlock's voice from the living room.

"Where are you going?"

Kylie paused for a second, trying to contain her temper, "Out, not like you would care."

Kylie then walked out of the house slamming the door behind her. She pressed play on her iPod and began to run to the music. She saw a tall dark figure running after her from her father's house out of the corner of her eye.

Let him follow me…Let's see if he can even catch me.

Kylie increased her pace as she heard Sherlock's footsteps become heavier as he increased his own pace to reach her.

"KYLIE!" she heard him yell as he began to catch up to her.

Kylie just pushed harder ignoring him.

Kylie then felt a hand grip her arm and pull her around while pulling her headphones out of her ears. Kylie stopped running and turned round to see Sherlock trying to catch his breath.

"Come on, you can't be out here alone," Sherlock said attempting to lead her back into the house.

"Says who?" Kylie argued breaking her arm out of his grip and looking at him like he had lost his mind.

"Kylie please lets just go..."

"No! Sherlock! You have explained some things, but I still don't know why you are putting up with staying in America! You hate it here! And John is back in London. Since you got here, you haven't even mentioned going back!"

"Kylie, please… lets go back inside!" Sherlock said practically begging and he looked over his shoulder.

"Why are you paranoid? The person who was after me, that Murillo dude is dead. Though, I still don't know how… So you are going to tell me what the hell is going on and why you are specifically acting intolerable toward everyone I love…"

Shots rang out as Sherlock tackled Kylie to the ground pulling her behind a mailbox.

"What the…" was all Kylie could get out before Sherlock pulled himself on top of her, covering her body entirely with his.

"Stay down," he whispered.

Kylie felt her body become numb with shock as her heart began beating rapidly with adrenaline and with how close Sherlock was to her.

A couple more shots rang out as Sherlock held her tight to him before silence took over the neighborhood. Sherlock picked his head up and got up off of Kylie, careful to stay behind the mailbox.

Sherlock looked at her, "Now, will you listen to me?"

He look at her for a moment before peering around the mailbox, before grabbing her hand and quickly running back into her father's house.

Kylie shut the door behind her and hastily began to cover all of the windows.

"What the HELL was that Sherlock?"

"Something I probably should have mentioned to you before."

Kylie turned round to look at him, gaping, "YOU THINK?"

Sherlock gave Kylie a look, "Its nothing to become irrational about Kylie."

Kylie gaped at him, "Sherlock, we were just shot at…for no reason."

"Of course there's a reason that we were shot at Kylie, be logical."

Kylie narrowed her eyes at him, "Fine, why the hell were we shot at then Sherlock? Murillo is dead and Thomas is MIA. Trust me, if he was in America, the CIA, FBI, and every other watch list would have lit up by now."

"No! You are missing the point!" Sherlock said as he looked at her incredulously, "You're the one who figured it out Kylie!"

Kylie gaped at him, confusion written all over her face, "What?"

"Kylie," Sherlock said walking over to her, "Moriarty wasn't Thomas's boss. Moriarty worked for Thomas. And he's still out there. He must have developed another link and associate. One who is a sniper. I should have suspected it…"

She stared at him for a moment, "Yeah, I thought that was common sense."

"Common…" Sherlock gaped looking at her completely taken aback, "What?"

"Anyone with common sense would have figured that out when you went missing, said that Thomas was after me, and the fact that Moriarty shot himself in the face. And I got the sniper part from being shot at."

Sherlock just looked at her like a fish out of water.

"I'm smarter than you think. So start explaining why you are avoiding my question."

"Question? We just got shot at!"

"And for us, its not like that is a rare occurrence for us."

"And this is why you cant be left alone. No wonder your father and _brother_ are afraid to leave you alone, and I feel the need to be protective of you…"

"Oh, yeah, it has nothing to do with the fact that those people care about, and not just because you believe me to be incompetent, Mr. Gunshot wound…." She ranted as she pointed to a blood stain on his shirt.

It took her a little more than a second for it to dawn on her that Sherlock had been shot.

"Oh God, Sherlock," She muttered as he anger disappeared and she reached out, looking intently at his abdomen.

Sherlock flinched in pain as her hand landed on his side. Sherlock looked down at his now bloodstained shirt. There was a gash in the side where a bullet had grazed him.

"Oh God," Kylie said getting up to take a closer look at the wound, "You must have gotten grazed and here I am yelling at you irrationally…"

"I didn't even feel it until now Kylie. I'm fine." Sherlock told her softly, almost in shock he hadn't felt it until now.

Kylie gave him a look, a softness in her eyes, all of her anger with him instantly gone.

"God," She muttered once more, squeezing his hand softly, "I'll be right back," she said before she walked out of the room for a moment and banged around in the closet, walking back in to the room with a first aide kit.

"Take off your shirt," she demanded as she knelt down and began fiddling with the contents of the kit.

"Kylie, you are overreacting," Sherlock said as he didn't move, but just watched her mess with the kit.

Kylie sighed and stood up taking a step closer Sherlock and began unbuttoning his shirt herself.

"Let me see it," she told him softly.

Sherlock placed his hands over hers to stop her, trying to will the feelings that were stirring up inside him to stop, "Ky…"

Kylie looked up at him, "Sherlock, I need to see the damage, you most likely need stiches, and if not, I still need to clean the wound."

Sherlock searched her eyes for a moment before she leaned in a pressed her lips to his.

"Please," she asked quietly.

Sherlock looked at her. It was in that moment, that he knew he couldn't say no to her.

_She really did care…_

He nodded and removed his hands and allowed her to help him out of his shirt as painlessly as possible.

"Sorry," Kylie apologized as he flinched.

"Fine," he muttered as she fully removed his shirt.

Kylie bent over to examine the wound on his side. It was a pretty good graze, most likely because the bullets that had been shot at them were from a large caliber rifle.

He would definitely need stiches. Kylie allowed her eyes to roam Sherlock's torso. Sure, she had seen him completely naked in the bath, but during that point, she had been so infuriated with him, not to mention she had tried very hard to maintain eye contact at that moment. But now… now she could appreciate it… definitely appreciate it.

_Damn, he was built…_

He was muscular. Not overly muscular, but definitely toned and fit. It oddly fit him though.

"Kylie," Sherlock said quietly as a blush began to creep up his neck.

"Right…sorry," Kylie said blushing herself after being caught blatantly staring at Sherlock.

_Keep yourself together Kylie…_

Kylie cleaned the wound as Sherlock hissed in pain, "Sorry," Kylie apologized quietly as she cleaned the wound, "Its pretty deep, I'm going to have to stitch it," Kylie said looking up at him.

"You are going to stich me?" Sherlock asked skeptically.

"I was taught by the best. I've been stitching people since she was 14. Ducky taught me," Kylie smiled at him.

"Fine," Sherlock told her as he tried not to flinch as she stiched him.

He watched her, finding himself admiring the way her eyes looked when she squinted at him. The warmth was filling him was annoying and yet gratifying…

_God, what was this woman doing to him? And why was he enjoying the confusion?_

"Sorry, I'm almost done," Kylie said as Sherlock flinched once more.

"Fine, its um.. er…fine," he commented as he felt his blow flow beginning to be um…redirected…

Kylie tied the knot on the last stich and cut the string. Covering up the wound with some gauze and tape, Kylie stood up to face Sherlock.

"There," she said looking him over once more, "Good as new."

Sherlock just stared at her for a moment, lost in his own world.

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him, "So… I'll go see if my Dad has a shirt you can wear?"

Sherlock just continued staring at her.

"What?" Kylie asked him quietly with a slight smile on her face, "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," he muttered as he took a step closer to her, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her pony tail, before leaning down and kissing her tenderly.

Kylie stiffened slightly and smiled with surprise before letting a moan slip due to the pleasure surging through her from his ministrations. One of her hands went to tangle in his hair while another on went around his back and ran her fingers over the taut muscles that lay in-between his shoulder blades. The feelings and intensity of the kiss begin to grow…

PLOP!

The couple was startled by the sound of someone dropping a heavy object on the ground.

Kylie turned to see her father storm past the couple, his knapsack on the ground while Fornell stood there with a smile.

"So the gossip really is true," Fornell smirked as her father walked back into the room with a sweatshirt in hand, chucking it at Sherlock.

"I'd never thought I'd have to address a dress code in my own home Kyleigha," Gibbs said quietly staring his daughter down.

"Dad he…"

"Got shot, yeah we heard," Gibbs snapped, "6 shots fired. When were you going to tell me that this Moriarty bloke wasn't really dead either, Kylie?"

Kylie looked at her father with confusion before looking at Sherlock, who was just as confused, "Moriarty shot himself in the face. He's dead Dad."

She paused and looked at Sherlock, "Right?"

"He shot himself in the face," Sherlock told him, "I saw it, he was dead."

"Yeah, well, you faked your death too," Gibbs told him, "And obviously neither of you have checked your phones, email, or seen the TV."

Kylie looked at Sherlock before grabbing her phone, seeing about twelve missed calls from John, Lestrade, and even one from Mycroft. Not to mention an email and a text message from an unknown address.

She opened the email to see a short GIF pop up as Sherlock peered over her shoulder.

Breath caught in her chest as horror shot through her.

A smiling picture of Jim Moriarty was smiling at her evilly the words, _'I'm back! Miss me?'_ written on the screen.

"So what'd you two do?" Gibbs asked Sherlock shortly as he sat on the couch, "Fake suicide at each other?"

Kylie looked at her boyfriend, seeing a look of shock on his face.

He hadn't known… Sherlock was there and he swore Moriarty was dead.

_I'm back! Miss me?_

**Review? Pretty please?**


	12. Chapter 12

**So sorry it took me so long to update you guys, and I really truly apologize for the shittiness of this chapter. I rewrote it about 15 times and hated all of them, but I needed to get them all in a certain spot and rehash some stuff. So I know its not my best, but I hope you guys are able to enjoy it anyhow!**

**A HUGE Thanks to all my amazing reviewers! Seriously, you guys are the best EVER! Know that I deeply appreciate the time you guys take to write a review, it keeps me going!**

**Anyhow, enjoy!**

Silence fell over the house as the two older men watched the young couple stare at the phone in complete shock.

Gibbs just sat on the couch casually as he watched his daughter's and the man she was now dating. The unusual look of shock covered his face as he gently took the phone out of Kylie's hand, examining the picture closely.

"Moriarty's alive?" Kylie asked him quietly.

Sherlock didn't respond, he was just lost in his own thoughts, staring at the screen in complete and utter shock.

"That damn picture's being broadcasted all over the world. Son of a bitch hijacked every broadcast network around the globe," Fornell told them.

Now Kylie wasn't listening. She was nearly numb in shock as she watched Sherlock stare blankly at her phone.

He really hadn't known. He had been there. He had sworn he was dead. The most brilliant man she knew, would have sworn on his life that James Moriarty was dead. The fact that he had been tricked by it, meant that they were dealing with a much more dangerous criminal than they had believed him to be.

SMACK

A hand gently, but firmly swatted her on the back of the head, startling her out of her trance only to see her father crossing back into the kitchen.

"Rule number three Kylie," her father told her as he went down the basement.

Kylie shut her before she stared at the floor in shock.

"Rule number three?" Fornell asked Kylie as he sat on the couch, "What's that one?"

"Never believe what you are told," Kylie muttered, "Always double check."

"Yeah," Fornell said as he nodded, "I guess that one would have come in handy since two people you thought were dead, have turned out not to be."

Kylie glared at him, before glancing at Sherlock who had crossed to the other side of the room, typing furiously on his own phone as he kept glancing at Kylie's on the other end of the room.

He had a stony expression on, but Kylie knew better; he was worried, extremely worried.

"I didn't come by to be an ass and rub it in," Fornell said as he drew her attention back to him, "I only do that to your father. You on the other hand, I actually like."

Kylie laughed lightly and rolled her eyes, "You sure? Because I'm nearly positive that you are the only person outside of NCIS that he hangs out with, and I thought it was some weird male ritual where you two act like you hate each other but it really means you are BFFs."

"You know, I hated your anthropological talk when you worked for me," Fornell smiled at her.

"And yet, you still hired me."

"No, the head of the FBI did that. I was just in charge of you."

"Yet you still scoffed at me when I showed up at my first crime scene," Kylie countered.

"If I remember correctly, you had just gotten your PhD and were 23 and showed up in jeans," Fornell told her, "I thought it was a practical joke."

Kylie smiled. Agent Tobias Fornell was her boss at the FBI when she worked for both NCIS and the FBI. The older man and her dad had gotten off to a rough start when Fornell married her stepmother after her father had gotten divorced. Once Fornell had divorced her too, he and Gibbs became friends. They were a lot alike in many different ways, but Fornell always had a lot of respect for Kylie. Sure, he had thought otherwise when she first started working for him. Hell, she had been just a kid. Which to a point, she still was 'just a kid' in his eyes, but now she had experience under her belt.

"Yeah, you did till you tried to kick me off the scene, I gave you a few choice words and then my findings," she countered.

Fornell laughed, "I think you are the only person to have ever given me your findings, smiled, and promptly told me to 'take that and shove it where the sun don't shine' on my own crime scene and leave alive."

"You always did like feisty women though. That's why you married one of my many stepmothers."

"I wish you would stopped me," Fornell told her.

Kylie laughed, "She is really a nice woman. I got along with her."

"That's the problem with you redheads…"

"Hey…"

Fornell laughed and they fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he broke it.

"How you doing?" he asked suddenly.

Kylie sighed and dropped her head, "My dad told you?"

"Oh God no," Fornell told her, "DiNozzo did."

Kylie sighed angrily, cursing her 'older brother's' big mouth.

"The FBI and CIA are trying to hunt down Thomas, and now this Moriarty guy," he continued, "But I wanted to come by and see how you were doing."

"When did you get so sensitive Tobias?" Kylie chided.

"I did marry your step mother, who sucked every ounce of my soul out of me, but give me some credit," Fornell told her, "You were the best hire I ever made. Despite the death threats your father gave me if I recruited you over to FBI."

Kylie laughed, remembering how much her father hadn't wanted her to take the job at the FBI.

"You worked for me for years, Kylie. You were young and kicked ass at your job. Even though I knew you as an adult, you always were like a daughter to me."

"Don't let my Dad hear that," Kylie joked.

Fornell laughed before he looked at her once more, "I'm sorry for what that son of a bitch did to you," he told her in a soft voice that was not typical of him, "I promise you, we will hunt him down…"

"No," she told him quietly, "Don't. Please."

Fornell frowned at her, seeing Sherlock look up from behind Kylie.

"Thomas is a bastard. He needs to be stopped, legally. You, nor my father need to be breaking the law. Too much as already been sacrificed. I don't need to lose my family too."

Fornell stayed silent as he looked at her, watching the Englishman as well. The younger man had paused from typing on his phone and was staring at Kylie with a different look that Fornell had seen prior. There was a softness in his eyes.

_Damn, Jethro was right. The kid really was in love with her…_

"Okay," Fornell told her softly.

Kylie raised an eyebrow at him, "Really It was that easy?"

"Yep," Fornell said smiling at her.

Kylie just looked at him suspiciously.

Her father came back up through the kitchen and set down his old Glock 23 0.40 caliber on the table in front of her before walking over to Sherlock and holding out another Glock for him as well.

Sherlock just looked up at him.

"I trust you know how to use this?" Gibbs asked him.

"Of course," Sherlock told him simply.

"Good, you are probably going to need it," Gibbs told him as he set it down next to him.

Kylie looked at her father, "Dad, one person shot at us. Its not like that hasn't happened before…."

"No, Kylie," Her father cut her off angrily, "You two were almost gunned down outside of my own damn house, and now you have two psychopaths after you. I am your father, Kyleigha. I am here to protect you. One of those two psychopaths already touched you, and God knows what would have happened to you if you hadn't been hanging out with Sherlock and that doctor. So, yeah, I'm allowed to take precautions and put you two under house arrest with a babysitter due to the fact that you two cant keep your hands off each other."

Kylie just gaped at her father, as Sherlock stared at him in confusion.

"You are staying here with Tobias for your own safety," Gibbs concluded, "I'll be back." 

"No, we aren't," Sherlock said suddenly, causing Gibbs to stop in his tracks. He slowly turned and face the younger man.

"Excuse me?" Gibbs growled.

"We are going back to London," Sherlock told him simply as he got up and walked over to Kylie, handing her back her phone, "As soon as possible. We are needed."

"I don't believe you understand what I just said," Gibbs told him as he walked over to the younger man, staring him in the eye.

"I did," Sherlock replied, "Obviously."

"Both of you," Kylie criticized as she stood up, standing between the two men, "stop."

She sighed and turned to Sherlock, "Why do we have to go back right now?"

Sherlock looked at her as if she had grown a third head, causing her to roll her eyes, "Other than the fact that Moriarty is obviously back."

Sherlock stared at her for a moment, "Mycroft traced the source of the hijacked signal to a remote location just outside of London. The first emails were to MI6, Thames house, Mycroft, myself, and you. Next was John and Scotland yard, before the signal was broadcasted over every screen in London, spreading outward from there. London is where Moriarty is and Mycroft is sending a private jet with fake passports that will allow us to be smuggled into the country undetected."

Kylie stared at him for a moment.

She wanted to be with her Dad for longer, but she knew Sherlock was right. If the message originated in London, that's where Moriarty is. It was either a lure or a sign; either way, they really needed to get back to London.

She slowly turned back to her father, "At least there's no one shooting at us in London."

Her father scoffed at her for a moment, "But you still have shooter after you."

"Either way, the shooter is employed by Thomas, who is connected to Moriarty. We bring down one of them, we have an answer to another," Kylie told him.

"I'm not letting you walk into that," Gibbs told her.

"I have a shooter who may or may not be after me here Dad," Kylie told him.

"You do," all three men told her at the same time, causing Kylie to roll her eyes once more.

"What I'm saying is, I am needed in London; both Sherlock and I. I can't stay in hiding forever. You know that. I can take care of myself."

Her father just looked at her.

"You guys track down the shooter here, and Sherlock and I will head back to London, undetected. His brother is practically the British government. We'll be under protection, trust me."

"She's right, Jethro," Fornell told him.

"Did I ask you Tobias?" Gibbs snapped towards the other man.

"No, but you are so good at …."

"LADIES!" Kylie yelled at them, finally getting them to stop, "I love you both. But seriously, go to couple's counseling. And I thought Sherlock and I argued…"

Gibbs and Fornell looked at each other, lost by her insinuation.

"I am going to London. Its what is safest for me, and best for everyone. So now, I am going to pack. And I will be back down when you two figure it out and come to your senses," Kylie told them before she turned on her heel and walked up the stairs.

Sherlock turned and looked at two men, who were growing angrier by the minute. It only took him a moment before he quickly made the decision to follow Kylie up the stairs.

He walked in the room to see Kylie not packing, but sitting on the bed with her head in her hands.

He stopped in his tracks, unsure of what to do.

Kylie sighed and looked up at him, stifling a laugh. He frowned at her.

"What?"

"I never thought I would see the day with you in clothing from that 'idiotic American university' that I went to," she told him with a smile.

Sherlock looked down and read 'GEORGE WASHINTON UNIVERSITY' on the front of the sweatshirt he was currently wearing. He sighed and rolled his eyes; she was never going to let him forget this.

"Your father handed it to me," he told her, "I was with out one and he made presumptions."

She grinned at him as he sat on the bed next to her, "Yeah, well he kind of had a right to when you are shirtless and we are making out in my childhood living room." She stopped and smiled at the floor, "…as good as it was…"

He looked at her for a moment before shifting awkwardly, something that Kylie didn't miss.

_It had been good… it had been damn good. It was bringing up feelings and reactions he had suppressed since he hit puberty. _

She looped her arm through his and dropped her head on his shoulder, "What are we going to do Sherlock?"

His heart fluttered with the intimate and innocent touch.

"With Moriarty being alive still… How in the hell can he still be alive?" she asked.

Sherlock stayed silent. That had been the same question he had been asking himself since the moment Kylie had opened that text message. It was impossible. He had seen Moriarty put a loaded gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. He had seen the blood, the bits of brain, his body. Sure, he hadn't taken a pulse… but there was no way he could have faked it. His mind had already run through every scenario, calculating the possibilities and outcomes like a chess match. But nothing; he came up with nothing.

What was the chance that not one, but both men had faked their own deaths to get the other player to play along? Slim to none. Sherlock had gone up on that roof knowing Moriarty's end game. The only thing he hadn't predicted were the gunmen and the bullet Moriarty put in his own skull.

Why fake it though? What did he have to gain through disappearing? Or making Sherlock believe that he was dead? None of it made sense.

He felt Kylie pick her head up and look at him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked quietly as she rubbed his arm.

He just looked at her for a moment, something turning in him as her large blue eyes stared at him. He never believed people when they said 'eyes were the gateway to the soul', but looking in her eyes, he was starting to believe differently.

He could tell from the way she was looking at him that she sincerely cared. They hadn't even said anything and she actually wanted to know what he was thinking.

This damn woman kept proving his prior beliefs wrong… every time… He hated when he when he was prove wrong, yet every time she did this to him, it accentuated this feeling inside of him, this amazing, fluttery, warm sensation that only she was able to coax out of him.

He just stayed silent and shook his head slightly before leaning over and kissing her forehead, his hand finding hers and intertwining it.

"Come on, pack your things," he told her quietly as he squeezed her hand and got up, "The jet will be here in a few hours."

Kylie sighed and watched him leave the room. She hadn't expected him to actually talk to her, but she had hoped he would.

She ran a hand through her hair before she stood up, grabbing the small suitcase out from under the bed. She was thankful that she had packed light when going to Argentina, it made repacking that much easier.

She was finally going back to London for good. Things had changed. More things had changed in the last 72 hours than she would have ever expected. It blew her mind. The man that she had thought to be in a relationship with another woman, crushed her and broke her heart, was now here and they were in a relationship. Everything had pointed to the fact that he didn't care for her, yet he was here, explained everything, and now, he was taking her back to London with him as they went off chasing Moriarty, who was also back from the dead.

It had all happened in a whirlwind. She wasn't even sure that she should trust these feelings, if she should even let Sherlock in after what he did to her.

_He explained himself. He apologized. _

_Thomas lied to you too and look what happened on that end. _

_Sherlock isn't Thomas, Kylie. You know that._

_You didn't think Thomas was capable of what he actually did… and you were with him for years. _

_He's not Thomas. _

She sighed and put her head in her hands. Was she doing the right thing? Sure, she had a right to be happy, a right to move on from what Thomas did to her, but was she ready?

Yes, her heart was telling her yes, leap into this; but her brain was telling her otherwise. She needed to not run into this.

It was Sherlock. Not Thomas.

She really needed to stop.

_Just take it one day at a time Kylie. One day at a time. _

She quickly piled all of her stuff into the small suitcase and zipped it shut, praying that she was making the right decision by going back to London.

**&($*(#) )( **

Kylie sat in the back of a generic, standard government SUV next to Sherlock as her father and Tony drove them to the airport. Her father had made the two of them dress to be unrecognizable; mainly in hoodies, baseball caps and sunglasses. Kylie had protested, but she knew it was just her father's way of trying to protect her.

She was just in shock that Sherlock had gone along with it that easily.

Kylie sighed and looked out the window as they drove through the main section of the airport to the private sector.

She had just gotten to DC, and now she was leaving. She hadn't seen her father in two years; the longest she had ever gone without seeing her father since her mother and sister had died. She missed him. She just wanted to see him for a bit longer, but the circumstances had changed.

Jim Moriarty had come back from the dead.

"This is stupid," Tony burst out, no longer able to contain himself in the tense silence, "you just got shot at and another psychopath is after you and now you are going back to London, right where he wants you…"

"Tony, it's the best place for me," Kylie told him.

"You are just going right where they…"

"I can handle myself Tony," Kylie told him firmly.

Gibbs looked over at the younger man, giving him a stare that told him to bite his tongue.

The look wasn't missed by Kylie. She knew that her father was against her leaving, but from the look he was currently giving Tony, he knew she was right. London was the best and safest place for her at the moment and gave them the best chance for them to bring Moriarty and Thomas down once and for all.

"Here," Sherlock said as he pointed towards a jet parked on the runway, pulling Kylie from her thoughts.

Gibbs parked the car next to the jet. Kylie sighed. This was it.

Sherlock hopped out and held out a hand for Kylie. She gave him a half-smile before she took his hand and allowed him to help her out of the back of the car.

"About time," John Watson said as he descended the stairs of the jet, fumbling with his jacket pockets.

"John?" Kylie asked in complete shock, "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Coming to pick up my two friends who can't even pick up the phone to return my phone calls, yet can arrange for a jet and fake passports?" John questioned as he reached the bottom of the stairs and held out two passports for them, "Making me the beurocratic brother's personal assistant."

"How…?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Mycroft and I do talk," John told Sherlock, cutting him off.

The three friends stood there in silence.

"Look, as of right now, you are," John began as he opened the passports, "Anna and Jonathan Wiley."

"We're married?" Kylie asked taking the passport, "Jesus, Mycroft is subtle."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes before huffing and grabbing one of Kylie's bags.

"Not so fast," Gibbs said as he grabbed Sherlock's arm, "We need to talk first."

Sherlock turned and looked at him, "I believe we already did."

"I have a few reminders for you."

"I think I know the point of the conversation."

Gibbs stared at him for a moment.

"Dad, let him go!" Kylie called out.

Sherlock looked up at the older Gibbs, "I'll keep her safe," he muttered to him before turning back and walking up the stairs to the jet.

"Seriously Dad, stop threatening my boyfriend," Kylie said as she smiled at him.

Gibbs looked at his daughter, "I want you to be safe."

"I will be, Dad. You know that this is the right choice."

"You don't seem to sure of that."

Kylie paused. She hated when her father could read her.

"It will be," she told him as firmly as she could.

Gibbs gave her a smile and pulled her into his arms, kissing her temple, "As much as I hate that Sherlock guy for taking you away from me, I like him. Stay close to him."

"Really? I couldn't tell that from your friendly demeanor."

"Shut up," Gibbs told her as he held her tighter, causing Kylie to laugh before they fell into silence.

"He's not Thomas, bug. Just know that. I can tell," he told her quietly, "He makes you happy. Never let that go."

She buried her head in his neck before kissing him on the cheek and pulling away.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

She turned to Tony and hugged him tightly.

"Take care of my Dad, will you?" she asked him.

"Only if you take care of yourself," He told her as he kissed her cheek.

"Will do," she said as she pulled away.

She gave her father and Tony one last wave before grabbing her bag and getting on the plane, closely followed by John.

She stepped onto the jet and her breath caught in her throat. The jet looked like airforce one. It was obviously a luxury jet, but she wasn't used to high-class life.

"Wow, Mycroft pulled out all the stops," Kylie muttered as Sherlock took her bag and stored it.

"That's about what I said when I got on," John commented as he took a seat, buckling up, "This wasn't what they transported us to Afganistan on."

"It's Mycroft's way of showing off," Sherlock commented as he urged Kylie into the seat across from John before him.

Kylie took her seat as the attendant came out and started talking to them quietly, offering them any beverages they desired. But she wasn't listening, she was too busy staring at her father and Tony in the SUV, watching them from afar as they plane began taxing out onto the runway.

"You okay Kylie?" John asked as he looked at his friend.

She turned to find both John and Sherlock staring at her.

"Yeah, fine," Kylie lied as she glanced once more out the window, seeing Tony and her father disappear as they took off.

"So how'd you get the job of special messanger boy for Mycroft?" she asked lightly, trying to get the attention off of her.

"Well since you two wouldn't call me back, I had to call Mycroft, who filled me in," John told them.

"Sorry, we saw the email and my Dad sort of freaked out because someone shot at us…"

"Wait, what?" John asked, his eyes nearly bugging out of his skull.

"It was nothing," Sherlock said, glossing over the fact, "What does Mycroft know so far? I'm assuming he sent you with information?"

"We're fine," Kylie told him, "Sherlock got grazed but we are both fine."

"Grazed?" John asked in complete shock, "One of you gets hit with a bullet and its nothing?"

"Yeah, we are both alive, aren't we?" Sherlock asked, "Now, information?"

John just gaped at them.

"What?" Kylie asked, "I patched him up. It wasn't like I'd let him bleed to death and let it get infected." 

"Please tell me you two are at least together now," John said as he handed Sherlock a folder, "because if you two aren't, it will just give me that much more of a reason that I should throttle the both of you."

"You're a bit crotchety when you aren't getting any _fuzz_," Sherlock snapped in return.

Kylie stifled a laugh of amusement at Sherlock's chide at sex. She doubted he even really knew what he said, but it was damn funny timing.

"Why, because you are now?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sherlock looked up at John in bewilderment, causing John's grin to grow even more.

"Sherlock, what does mean in that context?" Kylie asked, "Do you even know?"

He looked at her in bewilderment, "Doesn't it mean…?"

He trailed off in silence, hoping that someone else would fill in the blanks.

"Yeah, point proven," Kylie smiled as she looked back at John.

"Are you two together or not?" John asked.

"Can we just work, John?" Kylie asked.

"You are, aren't you?" John asked with a shit eating grin.

"Yes, we are _together_ as you put it, so now, can we please work?" Sherlock snapped as a blush began creeping up his neck as he hid behind the file, reading it.

Kylie bit her lip and smiled to herself as looked at the floor.

They were together, and now it was out in the open with their friends.

Things weren't good in the world, but hearing Sherlock say that they were together made all the problems in the world seem minute.

**I know… it wasn't the best, but review anyway? Please?**


	13. Chapter 13

**You guys are amazing. Seriously, I cant thank you guys enough for all of your amazing feedback!**

**A HUGE thanks to PinkJellyfishJuice, Drwholock, MiKaBlackPoynter, LatinClover, Dalonega Noquisi, Gwilwillith, xxxMadameMysteryxxx, SparrowLillies, my Guest reviewer, and bored411. **

**Another not too exciting chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it!**

Sherlock sighed and flipped through the file for the thousandth time, sighing to himself in frustration. He had no new information. All that was in here was the same thing Mycroft had told him over the phone. He looked up to find the jet was dark as they flew over the Atlantic. He must have lost track of time, it had been light when they had begun flying… and the last time he had noticed.

He looked over at Kylie who was curled up in the seat next to him, fast asleep; her head leaning on his shoulder.

Warmth filled him as he watched her sleep for a moment.

_How had he not noticed that?_

"You're smiling," John said quietly as he smiled at him, "Its sort of adorable really."

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, both at John and at himself for letting down his guard for more than half a second.

_He really needed to remember to check who was around before he let this damn woman draw him in. _

"Its good," John told him, "Really good actually. You both are finally happy."

"Does this have some point to it?" Sherlock asked, "Or is it just you gloating?"

"I have a point," John said simply as he took a sip of his tea, "But I get a chance to gloat a little don't I?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes once more and wished that there was some way out of this conversation. He couldn't get up and storm out. They were a mile up in the sky flying over the Atlantic ocean.

"She told me," John said as he leaned back in his seat, "while you were in your mind palace, or what not."

Sherlock frowned at him in confusion, lost by his statement.

"How you showed up at her door, 'apologized'," John said as he put up air quotes, "Which I say with sarcasm, because yelling at her your motive for Janine, the drugs, and Murillo isn't really an apology."

Sherlock just glared at him. This was annoying… extremely annoying and yet he still had no way out.

"Though, I do give you credit for telling her it was all to stop Thomas, I still don't understand how you managed to get her to be your girlfriend," John continued, "That being said, don't you think she deserves the truth?"

"Truth?"

John's eyes flicked to Kylie, ensuring that she was still sound asleep before he opened his mouth, "That you were the one who put a bullet in Murillo's skull."

Sherlock looked down at the sleeping woman for a moment.

"She doesn't need to know," Sherlock told him quietly.

"If your brother wasn't practically the British government you would be in jail on trail for first degree murder. He essentially got you exiled instead and the only reason you are being allowed back in the country is because Moriarty made a sudden reappearance. You are lucky American intelligence didn't know you were in the states," John continued.

"She doesn't need to know," Sherlock told him once more, "She'll blame herself…"

"Or leave you because you killed a man for her," John finished for him.

Sherlock just looked at him before nodding.

John just looked at his friend for a moment before leaning forward in his seat, "To be fair, he wasn't a very nice man. I mean South American dictators who murder 75% of their country's population don't tend to be very nice."

Sherlock scoffed and looked out the window at the darkened ocean.

"You did the right thing you know," John told him, "Not by society's view point, but in your place; I would have done the same."

Sherlock turned back and looked at his friend.

"The man was a monster. He committed mass genocide in his country and got away with it. That, and he was working with a son of a bitch who raped my friend, let alone a woman I cared deeply for. If you had let Mycroft's men take him, we would be the ones in prison and Murillo's connections, and therefore Thomas's would have been deeper."

Silence took over the plane.

"But," John told him, "I think you need to tell her the truth. Will she be angry? Yes. But its better if you tell her before she figures it out on her own; because you know she will… and that wont end well."

"She's already furious with me," Sherlock told him.

"Yeah, she's steaming with fury," John commented sarcastically as he referred to her sleeping form cuddled up beside him.

Sherlock glared at him in return, causing John to laugh slightly.

"All I am saying is, she's going to find out eventually. Trust me, she would rather hear it from you…"

"Who said she wouldn't hear it from me?" Sherlock snapped, "I just don't think she needs to know right now."

"Fine," John said leaning back in his seat, "What do I know? I just know that she is bright, and she'll piece the puzzle together a lot quicker than you think."

"Or someone wont keep their mouth shut…"

"I'll keep my mouth shut if that's what you want, but I would be worried about Mycroft and her seeing through everyone's lies," John reiterated to him, "She used to help interrogate with the FBI."

"Good thing I'm a high-functioning sociopath then," Sherlock retorted.

John rolled his eyes at his friend who was now purely on the defensive.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he commented as he looked back out the window.

Sherlock fell silent as he glanced once more at Kylie before looking out the window.

Deep down, he knew John was right; he should tell her what had really happened at Applegate, but he couldn't bring himself to. He had already seen her react when he had told her he had jumped and faked his death for her. God only knew how she would react if she knew he had committed murder for her.

He still wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that he had pulled that trigger. Rationally, it was by far the most logical choice; the right choice. But for some reason he felt that he had triggered that dark thing inside of him that he had put away and hidden inside himself for years now.

He had done horrible, terrible things in his younger years; things that he didn't want coming up ever again. If they did, Kylie would leave him and John… well John would never speak to him ever again. They had no idea of the person he once was, the same person who wouldn't blink an eye at firing that gun, but he had to remember… he wasn't that person anymore. He was just walking back down that dangerous path again. The ploy was over and now he just had to make sure he didn't keep walking down that path if he wanted to keep both Kylie and John in his life.

**&^# *&( ***

She was comfortable.

Comfortable, yet a large crink in her neck was causing her to need to move.

Too bad she didn't want to move… at all.

Sleep was tempting and the comforting smell of clean soap made her body slightly more relaxed.

_Why was that smell so comforting?_

Fingers gently combed through her hair before beginning to toy with the end of her long curls, as if out of boredom or mild interest.

_Who was doing that? And why in the hell was is so … comforting?_

The fingers played with the curl for a moment longer, before making their way back up and combing through again, starting the process all over again.

Kylie slowly opened her eyes, seeing the first rays of sunlight peek through the jets window as the sun rose. She blinked a few times before she noticed her head was dropped off to the side, resting on Sherlock's shoulder as she had curled up in the seat.

She fought a smile as she felt his fingers run through her hair once more. Kylie looked up at him as he gazed out the window, completely engrained in his own thoughts as he toyed with her hair.

She shut her eyes and enjoyed the feeling as she rubbed a hand up his chest, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Hey," she winced as she sat up, cracking her neck and rubbing it.

_She should not have slept in that position. _

"Its already morning?" she asked as she glanced over at John, who was currently asleep across from him.

"Yeah," Sherlock muttered as he watched her stretch languidly in her seat, "its about six, we'll be landing soon."

"Mmm," Kylie groaned as she yawned and rubbed her eyes, "You sleep at all?"

Sherlock didn't respond, he just watched her silently.

"Of course you didn't," Kylie said as she sat back in her seat and looked at him, "Sleep is usually a good thing to get."

Sherlock smirked at her lightly before shrugging, "Sleep is overrated."

She laughed lightly before reaching over and grabbing his hand.

"You need to take care of yourself though. Lack of sleep leads to decreased brain function."

"Not my brain."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot, you are super human," Kylie said sarcastically.

Sherlock looked over at her as she smiled at him sleepily.

"I'll sleep after we work on this case for a while," Sherlock told her quietly.

"We need to find Moriarty, but its not going to happen if you run yourself into a rut," Kylie told him.

"I wont."

"You always do on cases. You don't sleep or eat sometimes for days," Kylie told him.

"You worry too much."

"No, I care. There's a difference."

Sherlock just stared at her for a few moments before dropping his gaze down to her hand. He ran his fingers over hers as that annoying warmth and tingling filled him once more.

_Cared… she cared…_

He looked back up at her and nodded, "I'll sleep."

She smiled and squeezed his hand, "Thank you."

He watched her gaze out the window, admiring the way the morning light shone off her hair and eyes became even bluer.

_She really was beautiful._

He was never one to admire beauty in women. Nature, sure. Science? That was gorgeous. But women… Sure, he thought women were attractive; aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but she was the first woman who the word beautiful was the only word that came to his mind.

She was brilliant, beautiful, caring, quick-witted… the list went on. It amazed him though. He never believed you could have all of those traits. With caring came ignorance; with understanding came naïve nature. But her, she was all of the above. She cared, understood, yet it never seemed to affect her intelligence. She used logic, rationales, and her deep understanding of anthropology and human nature to explain people's motives.

…Just one more way that she defied the way that he viewed the world, countering every thought he had prior to meeting her.

"We're landing," Kylie said quietly as she noticed the decent and London appearing closer and closer below them.

She turned and caught his eye, smiling at him lightly, "Home sweet home."

**&^ & (*!)( !**

Mycroft Holmes drummed his fingers on his desk in the Diagonese club. He glanced over and checked his phone. The jet had landed 20 minutes ago; they had to be here any minute.

His eyes flicked to the file on his desk that he had been accumulating information in all day. Jim Moriarty had come back from the dead. It was official. This wasn't a hoax. How none of the world powers had known about it, was what blew him away.

Government as well as the spy world survived off of secrets and espionage, but he had a close ear on all of the sources, not to mention his allies sources. Something would have come up by now. But with the whole thing with Thomas Moore… that had been the world's biggest issue. At least the impending terrorist threats he left and the rumors that he was funding Al-Qaeda was distracting enough.

Quiet talking and footsteps pounded down the hallway approaching the door.

"Sirs, Ma'am! You cant go in there!" a familiar voice of the attending said in a shouting whisper.

_Showtime._

Mycroft leaned back in the chair just in time to see his younger brother storm in the room, Kylie and John right behind him before Sherlock slammed the door shut in the attending's face, causing the sound to surge through the silent club.

"You know, that's a bit rude when you slam the door shut in my favorite attending's face brother dear," Mycroft drawled.

"And that's why you dragged us back here from America?" Sherlock snapped, "Not to be rude."

"To be fair, John was already in London," Kylie said as she sat in one of the chairs across from the desk.

Both Holmes brothers stared at her unblinkingly.

"I was," John chided in, "I just got assigned the role of Mycroft's bitch to go and fetch you guys from America and sit on a plane for nearly a day with only spending less than an hour on solid land."

"That's because you no longer have a girlfriend," Mycroft said slowly as he shut the file in front of him, smiling at John politely, "And I don't have 'bitches'."

"No, you just pay overly attractive women to do your bidding," Kylie said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned it on, "That, is by definition, a _bitch_."

"You consider John an overly attractive woman?" Mycroft asked Kylie.

"No, but I'm sure he wouldn't look half bad in a pair of heels and dress," Kylie joked, smirking at the elder Holmes.

"Not gay, not a cross-dresser," John muttered.

"Oh hush, it was a compliment," Kylie told him.

"You do know that snide remarks and witty comments are not usually well liked in a time of crisis Miss Gibbs."

"Doctor," Sherlock snapped as he snatched the file off of his older brother's desk, flipping through it.

Everyone in the room was looking at him with bewilderment and curiosity.

Sherlock looked through the file for a moment as he felt everyone's eyes on him.

"Doctor Gibbs," Sherlock corrected his brother, "She has a PhD. You even call John Dr. Watson, yet you refuse to call Kylie by the name she has earned."

Kylie looked at Sherlock for a moment. She had noticed that Mycroft always did call her 'miss' Gibbs but it didn't really bother her. She never really thought anyone else had noticed.

"Yes, that's right now isn't it?" Mycroft smiled at his brother.

Kylie stared between the brothers before glancing questioningly at John. John was giving the Holmes's boys the same look before he caught Kylie's eye and shrugged, not knowing what on earth was going on as well.

"Yeah, okay. I doubt I am the reason that we are here," Kylie said trying to break the staring contest.

"Actually, there could be an argument that you are indeed the reason why we are here," Mycroft commented.

Kylie stared at the elder Holmes, while Sherlock glared daggers.

"You really believe Moriarty faked his death because of me?" Kylie asked, "Thomas, I'll give you, but Moriarty is not my psychopath."

"I didn't know we had ownership of them," John commented quietly.

"I'm sorry I missed the day to claim Jack the Ripper then," Sherlock commented as he read the file, making Kylie and John both snicker.

"Are you _children_ done?" Mycroft snapped, "We have a world class criminal back from the dead and you three are wasting my time by joking around. So for once, can you three act like grown ups and focus?"

"We solve crimes, I blog about, Kylie runs around with us, and he forgets his pants when we are summoned to Buckingham palace. So I wouldn't hold out too much hope," John said sarcastically.

Mycroft smiled at him politely, "Still not funny even after the first time you said it."

"I thought it was," Kylie muttered out of the corner of her mouth, causing Sherlock to smile to himself.

"James Moriarty is alive," Mycroft continued as he fought to keep his temper with the trio, "We believe Moore was a distraction in order to head off governments and agencies for looking into Moriarty's death. Apparently, we missed it too."

Sherlock plopped the file back down on the table.

"This information, there's nothing new," Sherlock told him.

"That's because we have nothing," Mycroft told him, "The source of the message started in London but was scattered across the globe, leaving it impossible to trace even by the best people out there."

"So you called us back here to go look for Moriarty when all the kings horses and all the kings men cant even dig up anything?" Kylie asked as she picked up the file, handing half of it to John, "You expect little old us to figure it all out?"

"You'd be surprised at half the Oxford graduates we have in the government are bigger idiots than you."

"Thank Mycroft," John commented sarcastically.

"Moriarty sent his message to the three of you and myself first for a reason," Mycroft said as he stood, "If anyone will figure it out, it will be you three. That and you will most likely be the first contact."

"So you hope that bringing us all back will draw him out of the woodwork?" John asked.

Mycroft leaned back on his desk and smiled politely at them, "Exactly."

***&#(* )(* )(#**

"I HATE being lure meat," Kylie ranted as she, John, and Sherlock entered 221B later that night, "I mean what in the hell does he expect us to do? With literally zero information? Just keep our phones on and hope that he calls?"

Sherlock didn't say anything as he set down Kylie's other bag and looked around the flat in confusion.

Something was different…

"I mean, seriously, what does he expect…." Kylie began again before he turned to John.

"You moved back in?" Sherlock asked in surprise.

Kylie stopped and looked at John, realizing what was going on.

"Uh… er… yeah," John told him as he scratched the back of his head, "My lease was up and since Karen and I didn't work out… I hope you don't mind."

"Fine," Sherlock said with zero reaction, "Completely fine. What was I going to do with an extra room?"

John smirked and laughed slightly as the room fell back into silence.

"Well Mozeltov boys," Kylie said smiling, "Shall we pop champagne?"

John fought a laugh as Sherlock looked at her in confusion.

"What?" he asked.

Kylie just laughed and grabbed her bag, "I'm going to go unpack and see if my flat still exists. You boys behave while I'm gone."

She walked over and hugged John, kissing his cheek.

"I'm glad you are back at Baker Street."

"Thanks Ky."

She gave Sherlock a wink before she picked up her bags and left, leaving the two men behind.

Kylie paused as she heard the two men talking once more before she climbed down the stairs and pulled out her keys, opening the door.

She stared at her flat, smiling to herself as she walked in. Mrs. Hudson had tidied it up for her. The blood from the body that had been left in her flat those years ago was gone. Her flat looked just the way that she had left it before the Fairy tale murder case and all of the hurt had begun.

Two years. Two years it took her to come back for good.

Things had changed… A lot of things; some good, some not so good. But for the first time in two years, she felt at home. Baker Street, London… they were her home. When she moved here those years ago, she never imagined London being a permanent residence for her. Now, she truly couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

**Like I said, not too exciting, but its set up!**

**Review? Pretty please?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks so much to all of my amazing reviewers! Honestly, I never thought anyone would read this when I first started, let alone take the time to review. So thanks so SO much!**

**A Huge thanks to: LoveIsAFairyTale, My guest reviewer, MiKaBlackPoynter, Gwilwillith, Drwholock, bored411, xxxMadameMysteryxxx, Dalonega Noquisi, and CaptianWilliamsN7 for their amazing reviews!**

**A semi-long one. Hope you guys enjoy!**

Sherlock sat on his couch toying with a rubber band as he stared at the fire; entrenched in his own thoughts. John had gone to bed a while ago and the silence of the flat, the crackling fire, and the faint sound of Kylie messing about in her flat below allowed him to fall deeper and deeper into his thoughts.

He had spent the majority of the last 24 hours wracking his brain as to try to figure out how in the hell Moriarty had faked his death. Every scenario he had carefully calculated to fit the parameters of what he had observed up on that roof top lead to one conclusion and one conclusion only: it was impossible that he left that rooftop alive.

…Yet there was very convincing evidence that showed otherwise.

"Still not sleeping?"

Sherlock's head snapped towards the voice, seeing Kylie give him a small smile as she shut the door quietly behind her, holding something in her hand while she was dressed in her typical yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt.

"I thought I had finally gotten through to you that sleep was indeed good for you, and here you are, still up," she joked with him lightly as she sat down on the couch next to him.

"I was thinking," he told her as he glanced down at her hand, trying to figure out what she was holding, frowning as he recognized what it was.

"Oh, well… that's different than usual," she laughed.

"Why are you holding a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and gauze?"

She stared at him, "Really? You were grazed by a bullet and you are really asking me why I have disinfectant and a new piece of gauze?"

Sherlock looked down at his torso, having completely forgotten about the graze.

_That's why he had that annoying pain all day…_

"Oh my God!" Kylie gaped in astonishment, "You seriously forgot about it? You are really a genius, but your brain can't remember you got shot?"

Silence.

"God, you probably tore your stitches, didn't you?" she muttered like a worried mother before she sat up, leaning over and moved his suit jacket out of the way, examining his shirt for any sign of blood.

"Kylie, I'm fine," he argued as he tried to move her hands away from meddling with his shirt and side as the pain began to increase now that he was conscious of it.

"No you aren't," she condoned as she slapped his hands away from trying to stop hers, "You got shot!"

"Jesus, Kylie!" he said as he tried to shove her hands away once more, only to get slapped again, "Will you stop worrying?"

She sat up straight and looked at him, fire in her eyes, "I'm not worried, I'm concerned. There's a difference. If you were in bed dying, I'd be worried. But right now, I am concerned that you don't take enough care of yourself and that it will get infected."

He stared at her for a moment, slightly taken aback.

"Its fine…"

"Have you changed your bandage? Or cleaned it since I stitched you?"

Silence.

"Yeah, exactly," Kylie snapped as she looked over at his shirt, sighing in relief that he hadn't torn his stitches… yet…

"Look, can you just clean it?" she asked as she softened, "I don't want it to get infected. It was pretty deep. And I'll sleep better if I know you aren't going to die of an infection."

He looked at her in genuine confusion.

"You aren't going to do it?"

She fought a smile, "What am I? Your nurse maid?"

Sherlock looked at her for a moment before a corner of his mouth pulled up in a slight smile before he looked back at the fire, playing as if he were indifferent to her comment.

"No, I just thought that you were subtly trying to get me to take my shirt off. I was just giving you an in," he chided at her casually.

Kylie gaped at him wordlessly for a moment in complete disbelief before she shoved him lightly. He began to chuckle as she laughed as well.

"Well, look who learned to flirt!"

"I read a book or two while you were away," Sherlock told her with a smile, "Don't get your hopes up for any more."

"You read a dating book?" Kylie asked as she laughed at him, "You?"

"I stole them from John," Sherlock quickly quipped, "Apparently there is a dating book for _Dummies_ that tells you exactly what to say."

Kylie smiled and leaned in, stopping about an inch away from his lips, "Tells you exactly what to say when the woman you are dating asks you in two years 'where this relationship is going?'"

"Yes," Sherlock said matter-of-factly, "That 'I find it very affirming.'"

Kylie snorted with laughter and dropped her head on his shoulder as she began laughing of the absurdity of that statement from him. If anyone else told her that, she would just think of it as harmless flirting; but this was Sherlock. He didn't flirt, he never had.

She felt his chest begin to vibrate with his deep chuckle as he shifted and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

"You do know that that didn't even answer the question?" Kylie chuckled as she put a hand on his chest and got comfortable in his embrace.

"That's what women want to hear though, isn't it?" Sherlock said as he began toying with her hair with an odd fascination that he always had with her hair.

"I don't know about most women, but I just know that that would make me laugh," Kylie told him as she pulled back slightly and looked up at him, smiling.

"Good thing you aren't most women then," he chided as he looked at her, a smile pulling at his lips, "God knows, I wouldn't keep you around if you were."

"Good to know," she told him as she chuckled and leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

She enjoyed the warmth and giddiness that surged through her as he kissed her back. Kylie doubted she would ever get used to this feeling. She had kissed men before, had a couple short-term boyfriends before Thomas even; but none… not one of them, came close to the sensation and bodily reaction she had to kissing this man.

He pulled her closer to him as one hand slid up her back, while the other tangled itself in her hair. Becoming increasingly frustrated with the combination of the kiss, now raging hormones, and the awkward angle of the kiss, Kylie broke it, climbing into his lap and straddling him, causing him to stiffen before she kissed her way down his jaw, towards his ear and neck.

Sherlock fought to keep the electricity and urges he was beginning to have under control as he felt her entire body press up against his as her lips kissed their way down his neck, her hands wandering down his chest, feeling the contours before they snuck under his jacket, trying to peel the article from his body.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he leaned forward and assisted her with it. His body was raging with electricity. He felt shaky, high, and excitement as well as fright.

_He was in control. He was always in control._

She gently nipped a sensitive point in his neck, causing him to gasp and shut his eyes at the sensation. He barely registered his arms winding around her as he crushed her into his chest, trying to hang on as these unfamiliar feelings surged through him. She smirked against his skin as she continued making her way down his neck, while her fingers tugged at his shirt, untucking it from his slacks.

"Kylie…" he said warningly in a strangled whisper as he fought not to let a moan escape.

_God, why on earth did it feel so good when she did this? _

He was boarding on losing complete control of his body, and she was definitely not the first woman to kiss him like this, but she was also the first woman whom he had actually wanted in his lap.

"I just want to see your graze," she muttered against his skin as she began unbuttoning it and peeling it off of him, "I have to clean it, remember?"

He wanted to retort, but he couldn't. It was to the point where he couldn't even string words together. It was as if his brain had shut down completely.

His body somehow let her peel the shirt off of his body, and it was discarded with ease to the floor.

Her hands went immediately to his stomach, feeling the skin she had been so fascinated with the day prior. With her touch, Sherlock lost all cognitive thought; he couldn't feel his limbs. His mind went blank. The only thing he could feel was her touch, her breath.

He tangled his hand in her hair once more as he pulled her lips up to his, kissing her with an unforeseen fervor. He felt her moan quietly into his mouth as her hands roamed his torso.

His hands made their way down her sides, feeling her athletic and thin frame through her oversized sweatshirt. By the time his fingers made their way to her hips, he felt skin… the softest skin he had ever felt.

It was as if electric shock had surged through him when he heard her gasp slightly, not being aware that her sweatshirt had ridden up ever so slightly about an inch above her waist band.

He kissed his way down her neck as her fingers tangled themselves in his hair. He wanted to feel more of her. The softness of her skin and the way she was trying to suppress the small noises of pleasure when he kissed a certain spot on her neck was driving him insane. His hands slipped under her sweatshirt, running up her back, causing her to shiver and whither as she gasped.

He brought his hand around to her front as he traced her ribs, only to feel a raised bit of skin. He barely had time to register the oddness of the large, long and raggedness of raised bit of skin before she stiffened and pulled away slightly as if she had been frightened.

He just stared at her in shock, not sure of what had frightened her. Her face was still slightly flushed, but quickly paling as her hands wrapped quickly around herself, holding her sweatshirt tightly to the spot where the flesh was raised.

They were both panting, but the tension in the room tripled in less than one second.

Sherlock was afraid to touch her. He had startled her and he had no idea how or why.

"You, all right?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yeah…" she whispered faintly as she climbed off his lap, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm.. I'm sorry," he said helplessly, not really sure what to do.

"Its fine," she told him with a small smile, barely meeting his eye, "I got a little carried away."

Sherlock was silent. He just watched her rub where he had felt the raised skin uncomfortably, as if she were trying to rub it away.

"What happened?" he asked her after a moment.

"Nothing, I was enjoying myself…"

"I mean the scar," Sherlock said cutting her off.

She looked at him in slight fear before quickly looking back down at the floor.

"Nothing, its old," Kylie lied quietly as she reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and gauze that had been abandoned on the floor, "I should clean your wound and we should go to bed. You need to sleep…"

"Let me see it," Sherlock said as he gently took the bottle from her.

He saw her practically ball up in herself as her eyes widened in fear.

"Its… no.. its… its ugly," she said as she practically hyper-ventilated.

He looked at her with concern. He hadn't expected her to ever react like this to a scar that she was apparently lying about.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he told her with a slight smile, trying to put her at ease.

She laughed quietly and dropped her head.

She was embarrassed. It was an ugly scar that marred her; a permanent reminder of what Thomas had done to her. The last thing she wanted Sherlock to see was that side of her, let alone what Thomas had really done to her.

Sure, she had been unconscious and unable to move during the last time, but when she had woken up, she knew. It was her body, and she knew what he had done to her.

All she wanted to do was move on and forget what happened. She didn't want to deal with it.

She felt Sherlock gently touch her. She stiffened slightly before relaxing as he brushed her hair back.

"Its nothing to worry about," she told him quietly, "It's just a scar."

"I'm not worried," he told her quietly, "I'm concerned."

She laughed quietly and shook her head, "I hate it when you use my own words against me."

He just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "I learned from the best."

She laughed once more as she looked at him.

"Please?" he asked her sincerely as his eyes locked on to hers.

She looked at him and smirked sadly, "Now look whose trying to get me to take my shirt off."

"I take offense to that," Sherlock told her, "I'm a gentlemen."

She laughed once more, "Says the man who fake proposed to a woman to get into her bosses house."

He stared at her indifferently to her comment.

She sighed, knowing he wasn't going to drop it. She slowly and uncomfortably began to pull off her sweatshirt, hesitantly allowing him to see the three large hash-like scars that went from the bottom of her left breast to the bottom of her ribcage. She held her sweatshirt tightly to her stomach as she sat there in her sports bra, feeling utterly exposed as Sherlock gently removed her hands from covering her stomach as he looked at the scars.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of anger at whatever had marred her perfect skin. The scars were large, angry and raised. It wasn't as if she had gotten caught on a fence or something, the scars were too smooth for that. It was as if a knife had been drawn deeply across her skin; marking her.

She flinched slightly as his fingers gently traced the scars, taking them in.

"I told you," she said in a quiet and broken voice, "They're ugly."

"How'd you get them?" he asked, not really listening to her prior words as he was lost in his own thoughts and concerns.

She just looked at him, pleading him to not make her say it.

He felt a knife go through his heart as he put it together.

"Thomas. Thomas did that to you?"

She shut her eyes and dropped her head as she covered herself up once more.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face as he kicked himself. Thomas had done this to her.

He felt himself reach out for her, pulling her gently into his arms, kissing her temple gently.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, "So sorry."

She stayed in his arms for a moment before pulling back and looking at him with sincere confusion.

"Why? What for?"

He looked at her for a moment before dropping his gaze and touching her scar once more, "I should have stopped him. He should have never gotten to you…"

He stopped talking as a soft hand cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up at the woman sitting next to him.

"You aren't the one who did this to me. You aren't responsible for what happened to me," she told him quietly.

"Yes, but…"

"No," she told him pointedly, "I had something awful happen to me. I have a mark on my body reminding me of what happened every day. But, it was not you who did it to me, or your fault that I was raped."

She paused as she looked into his eyes, waiting to see them soften and the anger with himself and Thomas leave his face.

"What's done has been done, Sherlock," she continued, "There's nothing anyone can do to change it. I… I just…" she shut her eyes and tried to bite back the emotion, "I just want to forget it ever happened and move on."

"But it did happen," Sherlock told her quietly, "He hurt you. Twice."

"I know," she told him as she nodded, "I lived for two years with the memories, and I don't want them in my head anymore. I just want to forget and move on. I want to be around things that make me happy. You make me happy."

Sherlock didn't know how to react to her words.

_He…? He made her happy?_

"Please, can we just forget this ever happened?" she begged him as she tried not to cry, "Please."

Slowly he nodded, not showing an ounce of emotion on his face.

"Thank you," she whispered as she wiped a tear that was threatening to fall as she leaned in and tenderly pressed her lips to his.

His hand brushed her cheek as he gently returned the kiss, before it came to a stop. He felt her press her forehead to his in a tender gesture as his eyes remained shut, trying to keep the chaos inside of him from showing.

He had no idea what was going on with his body anymore. He probably needed to go to the doctor, but it felt so good.

Why? He had no idea.

He must have a heart condition…

Kylie dropped her head and nuzzled his neck for a moment before kissing his cheek.

"I still need to clean your wound," she told him as she pulled away and wiped her eyes, busying herself with finding the bottle and gauze.

Sherlock stayed silent, biting his tongue to prevent himself from arguing with her. He just watched her ignore her own problems and busy herself with gently peeling off the old gauze she had placed on the day prior.

He flinched slightly as she began to carefully clean the wound.

"Sorry," she apologized as she dabbed it a little more, cleaning up the dried blood.

Silence overtook the flat once more as she finished cleaning it and taped the new gauze down.

"There, all done," she told him with a slight smile as she looked up at him. He was just staring at her with a certain softness in his eyes.

"What?" she asked.

He just stared at her for another moment before he shook his head, "Nothing," he told her quietly.

She just stared at him for a moment raising an eyebrow at him.

"Come on," he told her after a moment, getting up and pulling her up with him, "Let's go to bed."

She nodded and pulled her sweatshirt back on as he gathered up his scattered clothing as they walked into his bedroom.

He deposited his clothes in the hamper before grabbing a few things out of a drawer, turning back to see Kylie standing in the doorway awkwardly. He paused and looked at her in confusion as she was self-consciously rubbing her arm as she looked around.

"You alright?"

She smiled at him and nodded before she began looking around once more.

He stared at her for a moment, wracking his mind at what was going on with her before he slipped into the bathroom silently to change.

Kylie barely heard the door shut before she sat on the bed, staring at the periodic table that was hung up next to the bedroom window.

She couldn't help but shake the memory of the fact that Thomas had watched them on the first night she had slept in this bedroom.

_He could be watching her now…_

Sherlock crossed into her view, dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt before he shut the blinds and drew the curtains, realizing what she was staring at.

He looked at her in a way that silently comforted her without words. She just smiled and nodded in thanks as he crossed back over and got into bed, pulling back the covers as she clambered in after him, trying to get comfortable.

He reached across her and turned off the light, laying back down before he reached out and pulled her close to him so her head was on his chest. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck and rubbed his chest gently in thanks as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, rubbing her back.

They didn't speak a word to each other; they didn't need to. They had a silent and yet mutual understanding: they both needed each other. One had been in the middle of Serbia living, hidden in the forest while he was tortured; all to keep the woman in his arms safe and bring down a criminal circle for the last two years. While the other had been across the world in her own person hell while she tried to distract herself from her own pain. It was scientifically unexplainable, but when the other was with them the problems seemed to keep occurring, yet the pain they both felt vanished into the warmth and comfort of the other's arms.

**&^*( *)#( )_ #**

_God, he was comfortable._

_Comfortable and warm_.

The last thing he wanted to do was move, but the banging on something was urging him to open his eyes.

"Sherlock."

_No._

"Sherlock."

He didn't respond. He had no reason to move or open his eyes, and he wasn't going to.

WACK.

Something soft hit his face, hard, causing the warm thing in his arms to startle, as well as himself to jump and open his eyes.

"John what the hell?" Kylie said groggily as she removed the pillow from her face and sat up from her spot on his chest.

Sherlock looked over in confusion to see John standing fully dressed in the doorway of his room.

"Wake up sleeping beauties," he told them, "We have a case."

Sherlock groaned and ran a hand over his face as Kylie ran a hand through her hair before plopping herself back down on his chest.

"Its not a case, unless I say it is," Sherlock told his friend groggily.

John just looked at the pair for a moment with a raised eyebrow.

"It will interest you, trust me," John told him, "It's a Doctor whose patient claim he heals their incurable diseases before they all disappear."

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at John as his brain began to boot up, firing up to full-speed at the sentence.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," John smiled as he walked out of the room, leaving the door open, "Get dressed, we meet with the client in about an hour!"

Sherlock stiffened as his mind began to race.

_Patients disappearing….?_

"Come on Kylie, get up," he said as he gently pushed her off of him and sprung out of bed.

Kylie groaned as Sherlock nearly ran into the bathroom, trying to get ready.

"A game may be a foot!" he yelled as he turned on the shower.

Kylie opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, "Can I at least have coffee first?"

"NO!" Sherlock yelled at her from the bathroom, "Get up."

She rolled her eyes. She missed Baker Street. She missed the boys. She missed the cases… but the one thing she did not miss, was the lack of sleep.

She really was home.

**I know… a Lot of feelings… But back to procedural with a case next time… and more about Moriarty's return soon!**

**Review?**


	15. Chapter 15

**You guys are really amazing! Seriously, a HUGE thanks so all of my amazing reviewers!**

**Here's a short one! Sorry guys, Ive been a bit busy. **

**I hope you enjoy!**

A woman of about forty years of age sat in the single chair that was singularly placed in the center of the living room for clients and clients only.

The room was silent as the woman fiddled with a small teddy bear that she was holding in her lap.

John just sighed and looked at Kylie, who just rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's behavior. Sherlock was sitting and staring at the woman uncomfortably. The woman just looked at him before shifting and looking at Kylie and John for some assistance.

"Thank you so much for seeing me," she said as she looked at the three of them, "I am a huge fan of the blog, and I think you all are the only three who can help me."

"Boring," Sherlock drawled, "Case. Explain."

The woman looked at him, slightly taken aback.

"He means we appreciate you coming by and bringing us this case," Kylie told her with a smile.

"Do I?" Sherlock asked, "Plenty of idiots come by every day and ask for help figuring out their head from their arse…"

"Not this one, I checked it," John told him shortly, "You mean exactly what Kylie said. Say thank you."

"Why?"

"Say it."

"Thank you for coming by," Sherlock gritted out, "But please do hurry and tell me why on earth you are here before I kick you out of my flat. You have two minutes, GO."

Both Kylie and John rolled their eyes, giving up as Sherlock looked at his watch, timing the woman.

"My daughter, uh… Kate. Was Diagnosed with Alveolar Rhabdomyoscarcoma when she was eight. We went from specialist to specialist, even traveled to the states for a voluntary clinical trial. Nothing help…"

"Sad tale," Sherlock snapped, "Get to the point… ow!"

He flinched as Kylie punched him, hard, in the arm for being rude.

"Continue please," John urged the woman.

"We were recommended to see Dr. Nathaniel Rowe as a last resort."

"Rowe," John said thinking, "What's his specialty? I'm not familiar with him."

"He's a naturalistic Doctor," the woman told them.

"Ah," John commented with distain as he looked down, biting his tongue.

"You obviously don't believe in naturalistic medicine, Dr. Watson," the woman asked him.

"I believe in science, and scientific research," John told her, "I'm not that big of a fan of doctors selling a hail Mary pass for them to wave some hemp in their face and send them home with a prescription for arsenic laced tea."

The woman just stared at him, "My little girl had been fighting for her life for two years. She was ten and on her death bed. I wasn't the biggest fan of it either, but that man… he made her feel better, some how. The doctors called it a miracle."

"Naturalists can help take away a bit of the suffering…" John began.

"Her tumors shrank," the woman told him with tears, "Disappeared. She went into remission."

John gaped at the woman, "That's… that's impossible."

Kylie looked at John in confusion, "How is that impossible, its cancer. Cancer remises."

"Rhabdomyosarcoma is extremely rare and extremely deadly, especially when the malignant tumor spreads to the lungs, let alone alveoli," John explained, "That kind of Rhabdomyosarcoma has a five year survival rate of less than 20%."

"That's what the doctors said, but they saw her after Dr. Rowe treated her, and said she was better," the woman told them.

"I'm not seeing the case part in this story," Sherlock said as he began to stand up, only to have Kylie roughly shove him back down in his seat.

"She was doing better, but Dr. Rowe had her on a regime," the woman continued, "Colon therapy, acupuncture, meditation, herbal teas and detoxes. He recommended a mediation retreat somewhere in Ireland. I checked it out, dropped her off… it was just a hut in the middle of field. Seemed legit enough.. until I got a phone call."

"She was missing…" Kylie finished for her, putting the pieces together.

The woman nodded, crying.

"She had attended the last session and was in her bed. The rest of the people on the retreat woke up, and she was gone. Just like that."

"How do you believe that this is connected to the Doctor? Was he there?" Kylie asked.

"He was the only one who knew where Kate was other than me and the other attendees," the woman told them, "Kate's father is dead and I didn't tell her school where she was and my friends… well they tended to judge me in a similar fashion to Dr. Watson."

John looked at the floor guiltily.

"That and the woman who recommended Dr. Rowe to me in the first place, her son went missing as well as another patient of his," the woman told them.

Sherlock leaned back in his chair, thinking quietly.

"I know there is nothing that definitively links Dr. Rowe to this… but, I know… I just know my little girl is still alive and he has her. He has all of those kids."

"Kids?" Kylie frowned, "All of the missing patients have been kids?"

"As far as I know," the woman told her.

Kylie went silent as she was deep in thought as well.

John looked at his two friends who were obviously intrigued by the case now as well.

"Thank you Mrs. Franklin," John said as he stood up, "We'll let you know what we find."

"Please, its Gina," Mrs. Franklin said as she wiped her eyes, "And thank you."

"I haven't taken the case yet," Sherlock said from his seat, "I don't know why you are leaving yet."

"Why not?" Kylie asked, "It's a good case!"

"Tell me," Sherlock said as he leaned forward on his knees, "Why do believe that this doctor is behind it. Other than that feeling?"

"He… gave me the creeps when I first met him. I barely even let him take Kate into another room with him for the treatment. He always insisted that I never come in with her. She cried being away from me the first time she went to see him after the intake… but when she came out three hours later, she was different. Very different," Gina told him before she fished around in her purse, pulling out a notebook, "I kept a detailed record of her treatments and her reactions. I honestly don't know why I did, I guess it took my mind off of the fact that I was going to lose my little girl to a disease and give me hope. I don't know if it will help you, but it may."

Sherlock just sat and stared at Gina as she held out the notebook for him to take.

"Different how?" Sherlock asked.

"Happy, sedate, and cooperative," Gina told him, "Though I think the pain meds that Dr. Rowe took her off of made her a bit snippy."

"Or something else," Sherlock muttered.

"So you are going to take it?" John asked as he took the notebook from Gina.

"Of course," Sherlock said jumping up, "How else are we going to find Janet's daughter?"

Kylie looked at him in astonishment as John rolled his eyes and Gina looked at him in confusion.

"Its Gina," the woman corrected him.

"Whatever," Sherlock brushed off as he grabbed his coat and scarf, "We'll be in touch."

And with that, the dark-haired detective left the flat.

Kylie sighed and looked at the ground, shaking her head at the man's callus actions.

"Thank you so much for coming," John told her as he handed Gina her jacket.

"Thank you for seeing me…" Gina said as she trailed off, looking towards the door in confusion, "Is he always like that?"

"No," John said in a slightly sarcastic tone that only Kylie picked up on, "he just didn't have his coffee this morning."

***&#*( &#( ***

"Do people actually fall for this shit?" Kylie asked as she read her laptop in amazement as she nursed her cup of tea, "I mean really? 'Cancer is just the big pharamsutical companies ways of keeping their business open. That's why they are tainting the water supply with cancer causing chemicals…'" she read before she looked at John in disbelief.

John nodded and rolled his eyes, "Why do you think I have a problem with these crack pots?"

"This isn't medicine!" Kylie said as she leaned forward and began reading the page once more, "I mean, I'm sorry… but sticking needles in your body and saying a magic chant doesn't prevent cancer."

"Eastern medicine has actually been shown to help in disease management and even reduce tumor size," John told her as he kept flipping through Gina's notebook.

Kylie looked at John in confusion, "I thought you didn't support naturalistic healing?"

John shut the notebook and looked at her, "I have seen things as a doctor that can't be explained. Cancer remissions, unexplained deaths in extremely healthy individuals… But I have seen people become yoga junkies and rely on herbal home remedies heal as well. I believe that modern medicine is obviously the key and why most people are living into their 80's as opposed to their 40's in the 1900's. _BUT _I also believe that Ancient Chinese Medicine has been around for thousands of years and not been scientifically disproven because there may be something there. The human body is a complex and intimate life form; one that we think we understand a lot better than we actually do."

Kylie just stared at him and nodded, "So then why hate this Rowe guy? Isn't that just what he was doing?"

"There's a big difference between intertwining modern and ancient medicine, and convincing desperate people to abandon modern medicine that has a chance of helping them. They get off on feeding people false hope. They're in the same category as sex therapists and plastic surgeons."

Kylie frowned in slight surprise, "Okay, I'm going to skim past the sex therapist comment and wait until Sherlock gets back to bring it up."

John just sent her a glare as she began to laugh.

"So why do you hate Sex therapists?" she smiled at him, taking a sip of her tea as she tucked her legs underneath herself, "Ex-girlfriend make you go to one?"

"Yeah, I'm so not answering that," John told her as he turned back to the notebook.

"Oh my God, you did go to one!" Kylie laughed as John glared at her, completely flustered.

"No… I … I didn't!" he objected as he blushed, causing Kylie to grin at him even more, "I'm a doctor! I work with those people!"

"Uh-huh," Kylie said, grinning at him, "Tell me, you learn any of that tantric stuff? Or did you just talk about 'penis feelings'?"

John just furrowed his eyebrows at her, "Seriously? Uh, I never went, don't need to. And even if I did, it would definitely be neither of those things."

"Uh-huh," Kylie stated grinning as footsteps thumped up the stairs and Sherlock strolled into the room, taking off his scarf as he did.

"Where'd you run off to?" John asked Sherlock quickly, trying to get off the current topic as quickly as possible.

"Set up a trace," Sherlock said as he removed his jacket, throwing it over the chair before taking his seat at the table across from where Kylie was sitting, opening his own laptop.

Kylie raised her eyebrow at him, "You were gone for four hours. You needed four hours and to be MIA to set up an electronic trace?"

"Not electronic," Sherlock muttered as he began typing furiously, glancing up at her as he did, "I needed something much more reliable than that, and more widespread."

Kylie just looked at him expectantly.

"Homeless network," John supplied.

"Ah, yes," Kylie quipped as she turned back to her computer, "I should have made the connection to the homeless people you pay off when you said 'trace'."

"Obviously," Sherlock muttered as he went back to typing, "It's the only logical answer."

Kylie just looked at him blankly before shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"Anyhow… what trace did you set up?" Kylie asked.

"I have the homeless network tracking down Rowe's patients and keeping an eye on his movements," Sherlock responded as his phone beeped, causing him to smile as he flipped through whatever had come up on his phone, before he reached over and grabbed his phone cord, plugging it into his laptop.

"What'd you get?" John asked frowning as he got up.

"Trace," Sherlock smiled as the printer lit up and began spitting out pages.

Kylie reached for them before Sherlock snatched them from her, walking over to the couch and pinning up pictures that looked to be surveillance photos.

"Who's that?" Kylie asked as she and John got up, following him to his board.

Sherlock turned and looked at Kylie in shock, "Its Rowe. My homeless network sent surveillance photos back. I thought that was obvious."

"Well I figured as much as I looked up a photo of Rowe," Kylie stated as she crossed her arms and surveyed the photos, "But I thought you'd want to call us both idiots and gloat before you got to the point."

Sherlock turned and looked at his girlfriend, while John smirked and stifled a laugh as he looked at Kylie.

"That, and I don't know who the woman in the last photo is," Kylie continued, "Not to mention how homeless people got cell phones."

"They're burners," Sherlock noted as he looked back at the photos, "Rowe is doing nothing so far. But we have to establish an ordinary pattern before we can figure what's 'out of the ordinary'…"

"Survelience 101," Kylie muttered as she looked at the photos, "His clinic, the market, gym, underground… all not that interesting."

"The woman is one of his patients," Sherlock told them.

"How'd you gather that?" John asked, "That's confidential information. There's no way we can have access to that."

"She's leaving the clinic. She's on Canal," Kylie stated as she walked back over to her laptop, "Rowe's clinic is on Canal."

John leaned forward and looked more intently at the photos while Sherlock smirked.

"We need pull Lestrade in on this," Kylie told them, "We cant get medical records, despite the fact that Rowe isn't practicing real medicine, as well as a list of missing persons list."

"I already got that," Sherlock said as he pulled a list out of his jacket pocket.

John snatched it as Kylie looked at him completely puzzled.

"You have a patient list?" John gaped, "How in the hell…?"

"Not important," Sherlock said cutting him off, "Five patients have disappeared with no indication of why in the last three years. None of their bodies or any trace of them has ever showed up, yet they all had incurable diseases."

"You stole the patient list?" John gaped.

"At least one of them should have died," Sherlock continued as John looked at him incredulously and Kylie rolled her eyes at him, "And they all disappeared from different places. One girl from her home in the middle of the night, one from a retreat, another was headed to see his sister, another never came home from a last cruise, and the last never came home from his appointment. The only connection they have, is Rowe."

Sherlock turned around and looked at John and Kylie with a smile, "Looks like we have a case."

**Short, but case related once more. **

**Review? Pretty please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm so sorry this chapter took me forever to get out. I've been going through some stuff lately and it was hard for me to find time/motivation to write.**

**I have to say though, I was looking for motivation to write and I usually look to reviews for that, as well as encouragement. But I was sitting with a blank google page, and "Accidentally" tripped and typed my writing name into google. I was BLOWN AWAY by what I found. Seriously, I cant believe people take the time to read it, let alone recommend it and compare it to the series. Honestly, you guys have no idea how much your words mean to me. **

**A Huge thanks to my wonderful reviewers:**

**Newtofanfic: I doubt you are this far yet, but thanks so much. Honestly, means a lot to me. Its not going to follow season three all that much. I HATE rehashing. HATE. But thanks so much for saying that about my wedding scene!**

**Latin Clover: Thanks so much! Its my pet peeve when stories don't make scientific sense. So glad someone else appreciates that!**

**KiyUzumaki: thanks my dear!**

**Captian WilliamsN7: Thanks so much!so glad you are enjoying it!**

**GreyRoseOfHope: hahahah you'll see!**

**Bored411: Thanks so much! I hope you enjoy!**

**Gwilwillith: Thanks so much as always my dear!**

**Drwholock: Thanks so much! Seriously, I appreciate it!**

**Enjoy you guys!**

Sherlock stood in the living room staring at the photos he had posted in silence as Kylie and John quietly worked behind him.

John was flipping through an old medical text while comparing it to Gina's treatment notes, while Kylie was busy running Rowe's client list through the Scotland Yard Missing Person's List.

Sherlock knew that there was nothing in the photos he had received yet… he was establishing a baseline for Rowe, but part of his brain was nagging at him that there was something there… something he was missing…

Kylie sighed and leaned back in the desk chair.

"So I've created a timeline of when the five patients we knew about went missing, as well as one more whom there was a missing person's report filed for…"

"The 25 year old woman from Yorkshire?" Sherlock asked in a flat tone as he continued staring at the wall.

Kylie looked at him, slightly taken aback, "Uh… yeah. Natalie Rush."

"Depressed meth addict. Most likely killed herself and is lost in a ditch somewhere the M1. She's irrelevant," Sherlock responded quickly as he kept gazing at the photos.

Kylie stared at him in complete shock, before she looked at John, who was staring at Sherlock in an extremely similar fashion.

"There's no way you could possibly know that!" Kylie argued.

"Did you see the missing person's picture?" Sherlock scoffed turning around to glance at his two companions behind him, "She's a child in the photo. No one posts an outdated missing person's photo unless they are ashamed of what that person turned into. Obviously she had to have an ailment and a drug problem."

Silence overtook the flat for a moment as Sherlock turned back to the photographs.

"So… you got _meth_ and _depression_ from the lack of a new picture?" John asked.

"Yes, of course," Sherlock dismissed, "Meth is the only addictive drug that would have a significant change in facial features. Also it acts as an upper and would be a self-medicating way of treating the depression… which is also why she killed herself, hence the disappearance."

John stared in silence as Kylie smiled at him.

"Is it weird that I'm sort of turned on right now?" she asked John as she turned to him.

Sherlock stiffened and felt a corner of his mouth twitch in a smile as heat rose to his face and that annoying fluttering feeling returned to his stomach.

_Impressed her... He impressed her._

"Uh… ew," John told her pointedly, causing her to waggle her eyebrows at him and laugh.

"Anyway," Kylie continued as she recovered herself, "taking Natalie rush out of the equation..."

"Who?" Sherlock asked.

Kylie and John both raised an eyebrow at him.

"Meth-using depressive girl that we have been talking about for the last minute or so?" Kylie stated in a questioning tone.

"Oh, right," he said as he turned back around and stared at the photos once more.

"Oookay," Kylie said before choosing to ignore the past moment and move forward with her speech, "so after pulling Natalie Rush out of the picture, the first person that went missing was Kevin Durante, the guy who never returned home to his wife after his appointment."

"Makes sense if it was Rowe who was responsible for his disappearance," John stated, "He would have started off pretty blatant because he knew there wasn't going to be anyone curious about it."

"Curious about a guy going missing from his office?" Kylie asked in a flabbergasted tone, "Yeah, because not obvious."

John glared at her, "You know what I meant."

"What was the order of the disappearances?" Sherlock asked, obviously not listening to their prior conversation.

"Uh…" Kylie paused as she looked through the notes she had made, "Guy from office, Woman who never came back from a cruise, Little boy headed to see his sister disappeared from public transit, Kate, and finally the last one was a girl taken in the middle of the night from her home."

"So the children were last," Sherlock thought out loud.

Kylie watched him stared at the photos for a moment. Taking in his stiff thinking posture as she could practically see the wheels spinning in his mind.

He hurriedly pulled out his phone and looked at it before huffing and shoving it back into his pocket.

"Expecting someone?" John inquired, not missing the move.

"Mycroft should have been back to me by now," Sherlock muttered.

"With what?" Kylie asked as she began typing on her computer once more.

"Background on Rowe," Sherlock muttered as he began staring once more.

"Oh, you mean the one he sent to your email twenty minutes ago and I already opened?" Kylie asked, as she didn't react, just clicked around on the computer screen completely lax.

Sherlock's head whipped around as John looked up at her in confusion.

"You hacked my email?" Sherlock asked as he practically ran over to the computer to ensure she wasn't messing with him.

"How else would I get into your email?" she smiled at him as he gazed at the screen in blatant shock.

"You… you couldn't have…" Sherlock stuttered as he began clicking around in confusion, trying to figure out how she had hacked him.

Kylie watched him squirm for a moment, enjoying her victory.

"Or… you stupidly left yourself signed into your email on my computer," she smiled at him, causing John to smirk and Sherlock to turn and glare, "Though, I honestly have no idea when you did that."

Sherlock straightened and glared at his grinning girlfriend.

"Though 'Red Beard' is a stupid password," she commented, "Didn't you have a pet or something growing up to be all your passwords, instead of an adjective and facial hair?"

Sherlock snatched the laptop off the desk, causing her to jump slightly and then smirk at the rouse she got out of him, before he childishly stomped over to his armchair, reading through the background.

"Does anyone care to share with the class?" John asked.

"Not much there to go off of," Kylie stated as she picked up her mug of tea, "Has just a normal history after he immigrated from Austria ten years ago…"

"And before that?"

"Nothing. No trace of him according to Mycroft," Kylie told him.

"So either Austria doesn't keep very good records…" John began.

"Or Rowe isn't his real name," Sherlock muttered as he got up and set the laptop down in front of Kylie once more, walking over to stare at the same photographs on the wall.

"Huh," John said out loud in thought.

"You find anything weird in Gina's notes?" Kylie asked.

"Nothing that out of the ordinary," John said as he flipped through, "Nothing really note worthy other than a slight skin rash, she seemed to tire quickly, and some constipation after Kate started seeing this Rowe bloke."

"We need to bring him in for questioning," Sherlock said suddenly as he turned and looked at his companions.

"Yeah… except for the fact that it's the middle of the night, Lestrade has no idea about anything on this case, and we don't really have any substantial evidence against him," John pointed out.

"I mean we have _something_," Kylie pointed out, "The man has no history prior to ten years ago, and is literally the only link between the missing people!"

"That we know of," John countered, "We have no history of the other patients. We are looking for it to be him based off of a hunch!"

"You hate his practice!" Kylie argued, "You made fun of that article I showed you on how he believes Morphine is the leading cause of disease and death in first world countries and nearly threw a fit!" 

"Just because I don't agree with his practice, doesn't mean that this entire things cant be a huge…"

"Don't say coincidence," Kylie said cutting him off, "Otherwise Im going to have to smack you."

John sighed, "I know you say you don't believe in them, but they have been known to happen. I just don't think that we should be inditing a man who we have nothing but a hunch on."

Kylie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, knowing John had a point, before she looked at Sherlock.

"Then we need some more information, don't we?" Sherlock said as he grabbed his coat and scarf, putting them on before walking out the door and down the stairs.

Kylie and John just looked at each other for a moment before putting on their own jackets and running out after him.

Kylie burst through the door before John did, seeing Sherlock strolling down the street to her right.

She ran after him as John rolled his eyes and pulled out his keys.

"Yeah, I'll just lock up, shall I?" he yelled after them sarcastically, "No, don't wait for me! Its all good!"

**#*( &( *#( )**

Kylie caught up to Sherlock, falling in step with him as he put on his gloves, smiling at her lightly.

"So you two are coming with?" he smirked as they walked.

"Its two in the morning, you didn't state where you were going, and it would be a lot easier if you used words and said, 'Hey Kylie and John, I think I'm going to go (insert random place you are going in the middle of the night here), would you like to come with so you know I don't get shot and murdered in the middle of the night?" she told him sarcastically as she shoved her hands in her pocket, trying to keep warm in the cold London air, "Riddles are annoying. Especially when we are already working a case, as well as trying to track down Thomas and Moriarty. I can only handle so much mystery in my life, I don't need my boyfriend becoming a puzzle too."

Sherlock felt himself let out a chuckle as they kept walking, feeling a strange fluttery feeling upon the word 'boyfriend' rolling off her lips.

"You have to admit though," Sherlock told her, "It is more fun this way."

Kylie tried to fight a smile before she let it take over her face, laughing at his words as she shook her head and shoved him lightly, causing him to laugh as well.

"Thanks for waiting," John huffed cynically as he ran up behind them, falling into step with them as well.

"Kylie caught up before you," Sherlock countered, "What took you so long?"

"I had to do this thing that you never do, called locking the flat," John commented.

"No one is out this late," Sherlock commented as they turned the corner.

"No one except us, and the criminals of London," John told him.

Kylie smirked as she caught Sherlock rolling his eyes at his flatmate.

"Where are we going by the way?" Kylie asked.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Sherlock asked, slightly shocked.

It was Kylie and John's turn to roll their eyes at the consulting detective.

"No, where are we going?" John asked.

"Oh God," Kylie said as she stopped walking, causing John and Sherlock to turn and look back at her, "We're going to break into Rowe's office, aren't we?"

"Now you are using your brain," Sherlock said as he smirked at her and kept walking towards Canal Street.

John just gaped at her for a moment before she shook her head in fury and took off after the dark-haired man.

"We cant just break in Sherlock!" Kylie said as she fell in step with him once more as they rounded the corner to Canal, seeing Rowe's clinic just up ahead.

"Why not?" He asked as he looked at the building, back tracking and opening an electrical box on the outside of the building, messing with it a bit.

"Which reason do you not want?" Kylie asked as she crossed her arms, hearing John catch up behind them.

"None, apparently," he said as he shut the box and wandered over to the entrance, beginning to look the place over for the best point of entry.

"Fine I'll give you two, other than the fact that its completely unethical…"

"So is kidnapping," Sherlock countered.

"A)" Kylie began once more, glaring at him, "It's a felony, we could be arrested and lose our jobs."

"John and I are self employed…"

"Well, I'm not!" Kylie continued, "And B) anything we find will be exempt in court and prosecution as we aren't looking with a search warrant!"

"We aren't Scotland yard," Sherlock said as he removed his lockpick kit from his pocket and began picking the lock to the front door.

"Kylie technically is," John pointed out, "and there's an alarm on this door."

CLICK

The door opened and Sherlock grinned at it victoriously before pulling it open.

"I already disengaged it," Sherlock told him as he began to walk in, only to have Kylie catch him by the arm.

"Don't, you can lose your job and liability with Scotland Yard as well as let him walk with any evidence in there."

"I thought we covered that all of that only applies to you," Sherlock told her, "Wait outside. Problem solved."

Kylie huffed, obviously not liking the fact that she was not being included.

"What am I supposed to do then?"

"Keep a look out like a good assistant," Sherlock yelled back at her, "Come on John!"

Kylie glared angrily at the doorway before she looked at John, looking for him to take a stance.

"Sorry," he told her sheepishly before following Sherlock inside, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Kylie glared at the now shut door of the clinic, anger surging through her.

_Assistant?_

**&^#*&(* *() **

John quickly followed Sherlock inside, as he was eager to get away from the angry woman outside.

He found himself stopping quickly in the lobby of the "clinic". The thing was, it didn't look like a clinic. It looked more like a day spa. The Zen sand things that John could never remember the name of, covered the table in the middle of the lobby. Small waterfalls were spaced against the wall as if they would come to life at any moment if he found the right switch. It was a supposedly relaxing environment, but with the lights off and the fact that they were breaking in looking for evidence in disappearances made it more creepy then zen-like.

John reached into his pocket and pulled the small torch out of his pocket that he had begun carrying around once more out of habit, turning it on and wandering down the hall towards the exam rooms and main office where he heard Sherlock messing about.

He walked past two exam rooms and into the main luxurious office in which John could only assume was Rowe's, to find Sherlock riffling through what used to be a locked cabinet. His flat mate had a torch in his mouth as he read the names on the files, looking for particular ones.

"What were the name of the patients again?" Sherlock asked removing the torch from his mouth.

"We're stealing patient records?" John asked.

"No, we are making copies of them," Sherlock explained as he motioned to the copier just outside the door.

"You do know that those are just intake forms?" John asked, "All records have to be kept on a secure drive now."

Sherlock paused and looked at him for a moment.

"Look on the computer," John told him pulling the zip drive that he had attached to his keychain out of his pocket and handing it to him.

Sherlock looked at him for a moment before snatching the zip drive and practically running over to the computer, turning it on and looking for a password of some sort.

"What kind of idiot puts their password on the side of their computer screen?" Sherlock muttered as the familiar tune of logging in chimed from the computer.

"One who has nothing to hide? Or doesn't think they do," John responded as he looked around the office for any sign of personal touch, not finding one.

"Names of patients?"

"Kylie knows, I don't," John told him.

Sherlock sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing a number and putting it to his ear.

John watched him with a raised eyebrow.

_Yeah… this would go well…_

"I'll take the exam rooms, shall I?"

"Kylie I need the name of the patients who are missing."

Silence.

"What are you talking about? You are supposed to be keeping watch?"

_Yeah… going real well…_

John walked out of the room and into one of the exam rooms. Just like the rest of the clinic, the exam room didn't look like an exam room; it looked more like a therapist's office.

Two comfortable arm chairs sat in the room with a small table in the middle of the room. In the corner lay a large and comfortable looking massage table with sanitary paper over it.

He carefully stepped into the room, hearing Sherlock bickering on the phone with Kylie about the best way to steal the files. John tried the light switch, flicking it on a few times, only to see that nothing happened.

_Sherlock must have cut the power._

John skimmed his torch across the time, pausing over the bookshelf. He stepped closer, seeing multiple books on meditation, naturalistic medicine, herbology, acupuncture and anatomy. An incense burner lay with a bit of ash near one of the bookends as if Rowe had burnt one during his last session. He bent closer and smelt the ash.

Normal incense.

…_Poison incense was a long shot…_

He sighed and looked over at the small desk next to the massage table, opening the drawers. It looked like a atypical doctor's supply cabinet. Pamphlets filled one drawer, while another held rubbing alcohol swabs and acupuncture needles. Another held exam gloves and the contents to make enemas.

_Nothing… there was nothing here…_

Sighed and was about to close the drawer when something caught his eye. Why did it look like the drawer was extremely shallow for how deep the drawer was? John reached down and removed the contents, setting it on the desk, looking at the bottom of the drawer peculiarly.

_Something was off…_

He reached down and into the back of the drawer, feeling a tab poke out in the back. His heart began to race in his chest with the excitement and intrigue of the case.

_False Bottom… the drawer had a false bottom…_

He pulled the false bottom out and stared in shock at what he found in the bottom of the drawer.

"John," Sherlock said as he walked into the exam room, "I got the patient files…" he trailed off as he saw his flat mate's posture, "What?"

John was speechless as he bent down and pulled one of several vials nestled in foam out from the false drawer, careful not to be stuck by one of several needles in the drawer.

"Morphine?" Sherlock asked as he stepped forward and peered into the drawer as well.

"A crap ton of Morphine," John commented as he looked at the dosage on the bottle, "in incredibly high doses… blimely."

Sherlock stared at the bottles in the drawer for a moment, before reaching down and picking one up, thinking.

"Rowe wrote a whole paper on how he thought Morphine was the worst thing for medicine," John muttered, "Fucking hypocrite has it hidden in a false drawer."

"Symptoms?" Sherlock asked quietly and suddenly, "What were the girl's symptoms that you saw in the mother's notes?"

"What does that have….?" John trailed off as Sherlock gave him a look, "Fine. Uh… she had a rash, became tired quickly, and was despondent…." He trailed off again as the answer hit him, shutting his eyes and kicking himself for missing it.

"He drugged her," John put together, "He drugged her with morphine. All of the symptoms Gina saw are side effects of Morphine use. The rash, respiratory depression which would cause fatigue, and the despondent nature."

"Looks like naturalistic medicine wasn't too naturalistic after all," Sherlock commented as he glanced at John.

John took one last look at the drawer before shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

_He should have seen it. He should have fucking seen it. _

He felt Sherlock move his arm swiftly and subtly next to him, causing him to open his eyes and see Sherlock glancing at him out of the corner of his eye before bending down and replacing the false bottom.

"Wait, isn't there one more vial?" John asked.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he replaced the contents of the drawer, shutting it before moving to the next drawer.

"I thought…" John began frowning, wracking his memory.

_Maybe there had been one missing?_

"What?" Sherlock asked again as he began feeling for the false bottom the largest drawer.

"Never mind," John said Sherlock removed the bottom, feeling his blood stop moving entirely at what he saw.

"Oh God…" John muttered.

Sherlock looked down to find plastic liner, garbage bags, a large hunting knife, zip ties, and a pistol lying in the bottom of the drawer, as if no one knew they were there.

"Looks like Kylie was right," John muttered, "There is no such thing as coincidences."

**Review? Pretty PRETTY please?**


End file.
